The Pokewars Chronicles I: The Coming of Ashes
by The Mr Zed
Summary: Charmander is a young warrior in training in the Fire Nation. Piplup is a brooding youngster lost due to a recent tragedy. Chikorita has lost everything to the tides of war. Torchic continues to question her life. Froakie has little charisma left. Now, a new darkness faces this war-torn world, and only the strong will survive. Rated T for: Violence, language, and sexual situations.
1. Allegiances and Charmander I

**Dedication**

 **For V; I love you**

 **Allegiances**

 **FIRE NATION**

 **Council Members:**

Senator Charizard- Head of the Council, father of Charmander

Senator Blazekin- Head Council Advisor, father of Tochic

Senator Typhlosion- Head Council Political Strategist, father of Quilava

Senator Moltres- Head Council War Strategist

 **Great Warriors:**

Sir Infernape the Brave- Brave and valiant warrior of the Fire Nation, father of Monferno

Lady Rapidash the Strong- Strong and ruthless warrior of the Fire Nation, mother of Ponyta

Sir Arcanine the Headstrong- Headstrong and emotional warrior of the Fire Nation, husband of Miss Arcanine

Sir Heatmor the Hot-Head- Hot-headed and wild warrior of the Fire Nation

Lady Delphox the Valiant- Valiant and brave warrior of the Fire Nation, mother of Fennekin and Braixen

 **Warriors in Training:**

Charmander- Warrior in training, son of Senator Charizard

Torchic- Warrior in training, daughter of Senator Blazekin

Tepig- Warrior in training, son of the Emboars (died in battle)

Quilava- Warrior in training, son of Senator Typhlosion

Monferno- Warrior in training, son of Sir Infernape the Brave

Ponyta- Warrior in training, daughter of Lady Rapidash the Strong

Fennekin- Warrior in training, daughter of Lady Delphox the Valiant

Braixen- Warrior in training, daughter of Lady Delphox the Valiant

 **Medics:**

Miss Arcanine- Fire Nation medic, pregnant wife of Sir Arcanine the Headstrong

Flareon- Fire Nation medic

 **WATER NATION**

 **Council Members:**

Senator Empoleon- Head of the council, father of Piplup

Senator Feraligatr- Head Council Advisor, father of Totodile

Senator Walrein- Head Council Political Strategist

Senator Suicune- Head Council War Strategist

 **Great Warriors:**

Sir Kabutops the Brave- Brave and Valliant warrior of the Water Nation

Lady Golduck the Strong- Strong and noble warrior of the Water Nation, mother of Psyduck

Sir Slowking the Lout- Lazy yet skilled warrior of the Water Nation, father of Slowpoke

Sir Greninja the Loyal- Loyal and diligent warrior of the Water Nation, father of Froakie

 **Warriors in Training:**

Piplup- Warrior in training, son of Senator Empoleon

Totodile- Warrior in training, son of Senator Feraligatr

Psyduck- Warrior in training, son of Lady Golduck the Strong

Slowpoke- Warrior in training, daughter of Sir Slowking the Lout

Froakie- Warrior in training, son of Sir Greninja the Loyal

 **Medics:**

Simipour- Water Nation medic

Crawdaunt- Water Nation medic

 **GRASS NATION**

 **Council Members:**

Senator Meganium- Head of the Council, father of Chikorita and Bayleef

Senator Venusaur- Head Council Advisor, father of Ivysaur

Senator Torterra- Head Council Political Strategist, father of Turtwig

Senator Shaymin- Head Council War Strategist

 **Great Warriors:**

Lady Vileplume the Gutter- Fierce and brave warrior of the Grass Nation, mother of Oddish

Sir Parasect the Silent- Silent yet deadly warrior of the Grass Nation, father of Paras

Sir Shiftry the Strong- Strong and unbreakable warrior of the Grass Nation, father of Nuzleaf

Lady Roserade the Sharp- Quick-thinking and acting warrior of the Grass Nation, mother of Roselia

Sir Ferrothorn the Valiant- Valiant and brave warrior of the Grass Nation, husband of Miss Ferrothorn

 **Warriors in Training:**

Chikorita- Warrior in training, daughter of Senator Meganium

Bayleef- Warrior in training, daughter of Senator Meganium

Turtwig- Warrior in training, son of Senator Torterra

Oddish- Warrior in training, daughter of Lady Vileplume the Gutter

Paras- Warrior in training, son of Sir Parasect the Silent

Nuzleaf- Warrior in training, son of Sir Shiftry the Strong

Roselia- Warrior in training, daughter of Lady Roserade the Sharp

 **Medics:**

Miss Ferrothorn- Grass Nation medic, wife of Sir Ferrothorn the Valiant

Ivysaur- Grass Nation medic-in-training, son of Senator Venusaur

 **GROUND NATION**

 **Council Members:**

Senator Nidoking- Head of the Council, husband of Senator Nidoqueen, father of Nidorino and Nidorina

Senator Nidoqueen- Head Council Advisor, wife of Senator Nidoking, mother of Nidorino and Nidorina

Senator Flygon- Head Council Political Strategist, father of Trapinch

Senator Garchomp- Head Council War Strategist, father of Gible

 **Great Warriors:**

Sir Seismitoad the Strong- Strong and valiant warrior of the Ground Nation

Lady Donphan the Mountain- Large and powerful warrior of the Ground Nation, mother of Phanpy

Sir Sandslash the Ripper- Known for the power of his claws, a great warrior of the Ground Nation, husband of Lady Sandslash the Clawed, father of Sandshrew

Lady Sandslash the Clawed- Fierce and powerful warrior of the Ground Nation, wife of Sir Sandslash the Ripper, mother of Sandshrew

Sir Quagsire the Loyal- Loyal and brace warrior of the Ground Nation, father of Wooper

 **Warriors in Training:**

Nidorino- Warrior in training, son of Senator Nidoking and Senator Nidoqueen

Trapinch- Warrior in training, son of Senator Flygon

Gible- Warrior in training, son of Senator Garchomp

Phanpy- Warrior in training, daughter of Lady Donphan the Mountain

Sandshrew- Warrior in training, son of Sir Sandslash the Ripper and Lady Sandslash the clawed

Wooper- Warrior in training, son of Sir Quagsire the Loyal

 **Medics:**

Claydol- Ground Nation medic

Nidorina- Ground Nation medic-in-training, daughter of Senator Nidoking and Senator Nidoqueen

 **ROCK NATION**

 **Council Members:**

Senator Aggron- Head of the Council, father of Aron

Senator Golem- Head Council Advisor

Senator Rampardos- Head Council Political Strategist, father of Cranidos

Senator Rhyperior- Head Council War Strategist

 **Great Warriors:**

Sir Terrakion the Fierce- Fierce and unstoppable warrior of the Rock Nation

Sir Crustle the Valiant- Valiant and loyal warrior of the Rock Nation, father of Dwebble

Sir Gigalith the Strong- Strong and hardened warrior of the Rock Nation, husband of Miss Cradily, father of Roggenrola

Sir Probopass the Brave- Brave and undeterred warrior of the Rock Nation, father of Nosepass

 **Warriors in Training:**

Aron- Warrior in training, son of Senator Aggron

Cranidos- Warrior in training, son of Senator Rampardos

Dwebble- Warrior in training, son of Sir Crustle the Valiant

Nosepass- Warrior in training, son of Sid Probopass the Brave

 **Medics:**

Miss Cradily- Rock Nation medic, wife of sir Gigalith the Strong, mother of Roggenrola

Roggenrola- Rock Nation medic-in-training, son of Gigalith the Strong and Miss Cradily

 **DARK NATION**

 **Council Members:**

Senator Zoroark- Head of the Council, father of Zorua

Senator Umbreon- Head Council Advisor

Senator Hydreigon- Head Council Political Strategist

Senator Drapion- Head Council War Strategist, father of Skorupi

 **Great Warriors:**

Sir Honchkrow the Feared- Feared and brutal warrior of the Dark Nation

Sir Pangoro the Brave- Brave and valiant warrior of the Dark Nation, father of Pancham

Sir Houndoom the Wicked- Wicked and smart warrior of the Dark Nation, father of Houndour

Sir Mightyena the Strong- Strong and loyal warrior of the Dark Nation, husband of Miss Mightyena, father of Poochyena

 **Warriors in Training:**

Zorua- Warrior in training, son of Senator Zoroark

Stunky- Warrior in training, son of Senator Skuntank (died in battle)

Pancham- Warrior in training, son of Sir Pangoro the Brave

Houndour- Warrior in training, son of Sir Houndoom the Wicked

Poochyena- Warrior in training, son of Mightyena the Strong and Miss Mightyena

 **Medics:**

Miss Mightyena- Dark Nation medic

Tyranitar- Dark Nation medic

 **FIGHTING NATION**

 **Council Members:**

Senator Toxicroak- Head of the Council, father of Croagunk

Senator Lucario- Head Council Advisor

Senator Machamp- Head Council Political Strategist, father of Machop and Machamp

Senator Chesnaught- Head Council War Strategist, father of Chespin

 **Great Warriors:**

Lady Hariyama the Brave- Brave and valiant warrior of the Fighting Nation, mother of Makuhita

Lady Medicham the Ruthless- Ruthless and powerful warrior of the Fighting Nation, mother of Meditite

Sir Conkeldurr the Destroyer- Powerful warrior of the Fighting Nation, father of Timburr and Gurdurr

Lady Mienshao the Loyal- Loyal and strong warrior of the Fighting Nation, mother of Mienfoo

Sir Primeape the Strong- Strong and valued warrior of the Fighting Nation, father of Mankey

Sir Machoke the Determined- Determined and loyal warrior of the Fighting Nation, son of Senator Machamp

 **Warriors in Training:**

Croagunk- Warrior in training, son of Senator Toxicroak

Machop- Warrior in training, son of Senator Machamp

Chespin- Warrior in training, son of Senator Chesnaught

Makuhita- Warrior in training, son of Lady Hariyama the Brave

Meditite- Warrior in training, daughter of Lady Medicham the Ruthless

Timburr- Warrior in training, son of Sir Conkeldurr the Destroyer

Gurdurr- Warrior in training, son of Sir Conkeldurr the Destroyer

Mankey- Warrior in training, son of Sir Primeape the Strong

 **Medics** :

Poliwrath- Fighting Nation medic

Mienfoo- Fighting Nation medic-in-training, daughter of Lady Mienshao the Loyal

 **DRAGON NATION**

 **Council Members:**

Senator Dragonite- Head of the Council, father of Dratini

Senator Haxorus- Head Council Advisor, father of Axew and Fraxure

Senator Salamence- Head Council Political Strategist, mother of Bagon

Senator Altaria- Head Council War Strategist

 **Great Warriors:**

Lady Kingdra the Valiant- Valiant and well-loved warrior of the Dragon Nation, mother of Horsea

Sir Druddigon the Fair- A fair and just warrior revered by the Dragon Nation

Sir Goodra the Fierce- Fierce and brave warrior of the Dragon Nation, father of Sliggoo

Sir Dragalge the Powerful- Powerful and fearless warrior of the Dragon Nation

 **Warriors in Training:**

Dratini- Warrior in training, son of Senator Dragonite

Fraxure- Warrior in training, son of Senator Haxorus

Bagon- Warrior in training, son of Senator Salamence

Horsea- Warrior in training, daughter of Lady Kingdra the Valiant

Sliggoo- Warrior in training, son of Sir Goodra the Fierce

 **Medics:**

Latios- Dragon Nation medic

Latias- Dragon Nation medic

Axew- Dragon Nation medic-in-training, daughter of Senator Haxorus

 **STEEL NATION**

 **Council Members:**

Senator Steelix- Head of the Council, father of Onix

Senator Bastiodon- Head Council Advisor, father of Shieldon

Senator Metagross- Head Council Political Strategist, father of Beldum and Metang

Senator Skarmory- Head Council War Strategist

 **Great Warriors:**

Sir Bronzong the Unbreakable- Unbeatable and determined warrior of the Steel Nation, father of Bronzor

Lady Excadrill the Feared- Feared and proud warrior of the Steel Nation, mother of Drilbur

Sir Escavalier the Sharp- Quick-witted and intelligent warrior of the Steel Nation, father of Karrablast

Lady Bisharp the Brave- Brave and valiant warrior of the Steel Nation, mother of Pawniard

Sir Aegislash the Focused- Focused and well-trained warrior of the Steel Nation, father of Honedge

 **Warriors in Training:**

Onix- Warrior in training, son of Senator Steelix

Shieldon- Warrior in training, son of Senator Bastiodon

Beldum- Warrior in training, daughter of Senator Metagross

Metang- Warrior in training, son of Senator Metagross

Bronzor- Warrior in training, son of Sir Bronzong the Unbreakable

Drilbur- Warrior in training, son of Lady Excadrill the Feared

Karrablast- Warrior in training, son of Sir Escavalier the Sharp

Pawniard- Warrior in training, daughter or Lady Bisharp the Brave

Honedge- Warrior in training, son of Sir Aegislash the Focused

 **Medics:**

Cobalion- Steel Nation medic

Klefki- Steel Nation medic-in-training

 **THE WARDENS**

 **The Three Leaders:**

Serperior- Leader of the Wardens

Emboar- Leader of the Wardens

Samurott- Leader of the Wardens

 **Wardens:**

Tranquill- Warden, husband of Staravia, father of Pidove and Starly

Staravia- Warden, wife of Tranquill, sister of Staraptor, mother of Pidove and Starly

Staraptor- Warden, brother of Staravia

Krookodile- Warden

Magnezone- Warden

Heliolisk- Warden, mother of Helioptile

Sylveon- Warden, wife of Jolteon, mother of Glaceon

Jolteon- Warden, husband of Sylveon, father of Glaceon

Weavile- Warden, surrogate mother of Skorupi (whose real father is Senator Drapion of the Dark Nation)

Pidgeot- Warden, father of Pidgey, husband of Braviary

Braviary- Warden, mother of Pidgey, wife of Pidgeot

Durant- Warden

Talonflame- Warden, mother of Fletchling

Barbaracle- Warden

Clawitzer- Warden

Delcatty- Warden, wife of Breloom, mother of Skitty

Breloom- Warden, husband of Delcatty, father of Skitty

Vigoroth- Warden

Granbull- Warden

Sceptile- Warden, father of Treecko

Torkoal- Warden

Cacturne- Warden, father of Cacnea

Absol- Warden

Sableye- Warden

Mawile- Warden

Heracross- Warden

Gardevoir- Warden

Raikou- Warden

 **Wardens in Training:**

Tyrunt- Warden in training, son of the Tyrantrum's (members of Rock Nation, died in battle)

Pidove- Warden in training, daughter of Tranquill and Staravia

Starly- Warden in training, son of Tranquill and Staravia

Helioptile- Warden in training, son of Heliolisk

Glaceon- Warden in training, daughter of Sylveon and Jolteon

Skorupi- Warden in training, son of Senator Drapion of the Dark Nation, surrogate son of Weavile

Pidgey- Warden in training, son of Pidgeot and Braviary

Fletchling- Warden in training, daughter of Talonflame

Skitty- Warden in training, daughter of Delcatty and Breloom

Treecko- Warden in training, son of Sceptile

Cacnea- Warden in training, son of Cacturne

 **Medics** :

Liepard- Medic

Espeon- Medic

Leafeon- Medic

 **OTHERS:**

Arceus- Mythical God of Pokemon, believed to be the Embodiment of Good

Darkrai- Mythical God of Pokemon, believed to be the Embodiment of Evil

Rayquaza- Mythical Pokemon associated with the Legend of the Warrior's Emerald

Abomasnow- Hermit

HIM- Nothing is known about this figure.

 **Charmander**

Out of the void of darkness and into the light of the morning. Charmander blinked his eyes open from the dream he had been having. He remembered for a moment what it was about, something involving his father, but the dream quickly faded, no longer in his grasp. He sat up, looking around his fairly cluttered room. He sighed, seeing that the early morning light of the sun was currently shining brightly through his windows. He could feel the weight of his exhaustion in his eyes, like stones had been placed beneath his eyelids. But he couldn't worry about that now; today was the day of his first battle.

He climbed out of bed tiredly, so much so that he was startled to see his father standing over him. His father's green wings stretched across the room. His orange body shined when the sunlight hit it. His tail blazed much brighter than the sunlight, though, a bonfire compared to it. His small blue eyes glittered with amusement, and a smile formed on his long snout. "Didn't see me, did you?"

Charmander sighed. "No," he admitted. "I'm just tired, that's all."

"I can see that," his father admitted. "Are you sure you're going to be ready for this?"

Charmander looked at his father, putting on a mask of determination. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I'm ready."

Charizard stared at his son for a moment. Then he sighed, and his voice became quieter. "You know how tough things are getting," he said softly. "You know about everything that we've had to deal with from the Water Nation these past few months. Everyone's taken their losses hard."

Charmander nodded, his mind wandering to Tepig. One of his best friends since they were only a few years old. The two of them, along with Torchic and Fennekin, always trained with one another. And now, out of all of them, Tepig would be the only one not participating in the upcoming battle. Instead, he would be in a hospital bed, monitored by the medics. Even though Tepig seemed to be taking it okay, joking and smiling every time they talked, Charmander couldn't imagine what he must have been going through after what happened to his parents.

"Get some breakfast," Charizard commanded, "and visit Tepig if you want. I'm sure he'd like the company. The battle won't be starting until mid-day, just an hour before noon."

Charmander nodded. Charizard smiled and stared at Charmander for a few moments. Charmander shifted uncomfortably. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," Charizard replied. "Nothing. You just… you have your mother's eyes. Always sparkling, always wide and alert."

Charizard sighed. Without another word he turned, his thick tail swinging behind him as he walked out of the room. Charmander felt a blackness in his heart, then, thinking about his mother. He hadn't known her very well. He'd only been two years old when she'd been killed in battle. He could never recall who had killed her, but he knew his father would never forget that day. He could tell based on how much he'd talk about her, even thirteen years after her death. And still, Charmander didn't even know what her voice sounded like.

Sighing to himself, Charmander rubbed his blue eyes with his stubby, orange fingers. He walked over to the door on his small feet, his short tail swinging, the fire on the end of it blazing, though not as strong as his father's did. He swung the door open, and met face to face with a smiling Torchic.

Torchic's brown eyes gazed into Charmander's. Her orange chest, as well as the light yellow feathers that surrounded her neck, moved up and down. Charmander noticed then that she was breathing heavily. Then, with a blink, he realized where he was. "How did you get in my house?"

"Come on!" Torchic shouted excitedly, jumping up on her clawed feet. "We've gotta eat breakfast and visit Tepig before the battle starts!"

"Eat breakfast, are you having it here with us?" Charmander asked.

"Ugh," Torchic sighed, shaking her head. "No, we're gonna have breakfast down at the mess hall! We're practically Great Warriors now!"

"This is our first battle," Charmander said. "Not exactly 'great' when we haven't even proven ourselves."

"You know what I mean, we can finally get all that good food the others talk about so much!"

With that Torchic raced to the left and began to skip down Charmander's stairs. "Is Blaziken's cooking really that bad?" he shouted down.

"Just shut up and come outside!" Torchic hollered back.

Charmander rolled his eyes and walked into the hallway, shutting his door behind him. He began to walk down the stairs when he saw Torchic at the door. A slow smile grew on his face as he began to walk down the steps slower. Torchic glared at him, but was unable to suppress the smile that was forming on her beak. Charmander sped up his steps when he saw Torchic gesture towards her claws. He'd seen what they could do to training dummies, and he did not want to risk getting sliced with them.

Torchic opened to door and dashed outside just as Charmander reached the bottom of the staircase. Charmander was about to go out as well, when he heard his father call from him from behind. "Oh, Charmander!"

Charmander turned. His father was sitting on a blue couch, a pillow behind his head as he was leaning back against the cushion. "Be careful," he warned. "I don't want you getting hurt before the start of a battle."

Charmander nodded. "Love you," he said before closing the door, not waiting for a response before he dashed off to catch up to Torchic.

He ran, seeing her in the distance. He passed by other citizens of the Fire Nation as he ran. A couple of Infernape's pushing along a carriage scoffed at him, and an elderly Typhlosion shouted, "Just because you're the son of one our Senators doesn't give you the right to run around like this!" Charmander ignored him though, instead following the orange dot in the distance, his feet tapping against the stone of Furnace, the Fire Nation's capital.

The capital's streets were made of brown bricks, all of them making winding paths throughout the capital. Houses, shops, and other locations lined the streets of the thick city. But, in the early hours of the morning, the section of the city that Charmander ran through looked almost like a quaint, quiet town. The houses weren't that large, the shops were tiny and family-owned, and the people walking, talking, or eating were friendly with one another, not bumping into one another or yelling expletives if they tripped on someone walking too slow for their liking. Charmander loved the morning because it was so quiet, and because everyone wasn't expected to go out and do much until the late morning.

That was also why he liked the night. On occasion, when his father allowed him to, he would walk the streets of the city at night, admiring the stars and the moon above him as he did so. Not caring where he was going, not looking, because he knew the city like the back of his hand. He would just look at all of the lights in everyone's windows as, one by one, they began to shut off, and by the time he was back home, the night was quiet. No noises, no lights. A pure and blissful darkness.

But now, it was the bliss of the morning that he ran through. He did so carefully, not wanting to make too much noise as he ran, not wanting to spoil the almost noiseless elegance of the morning. When he finally caught up to Torchic at the mess hall, she was eyeing him curiously as he put his hands on his knees and began to breathe heavily. Torchic, on the other hand, didn't look tired at all. "You're not exactly fast," she commented.

Charmander looked up at her, smiling. "Yeah," he said, still trying to catch his breath. "At least I fight better than you."

"Well you have hands," Torchic retorted playfully. "That _does_ give you an advantage, you know."

"Fair point," Charmander said. He took his hands off his knees and opened the door to the mess hall. He gestured for Torchic to go in. Instead, she eyed him carefully. "When did you become a gentleman?" she asked.

"I didn't," he admitted. "I just feel bad that you have no hands."

"Shut up," she said, shaking her head as she walked through the door. Charmander laughed as he entered, then stifled it as he looked at what was before him.

What was stretched out in front of him was a larger mess hall than he ever could have imagined. As he looked at it, seeing what must have been close to two thousand Pokémon sitting at various tables eating breakfast and talking, laughing, nervously shaking, or just sitting alone, he could have sworn the place was bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. A few faces looked over at them, but for the most part they were ignored.

Torchic walked through the building, looking around. Charmander did as well, noticing how dimly illuminated the room was, especially for so early in the morning. He could see torches across the high ceiling, and could see some windows that cascaded a minimal amount of light down to the floor that rested twelve feet below them. On that floor were long wooden tables as far as the eye could see, the wood almost a vibrant yellow in the light of the room. In the center of the room was a small shack. Charmander could see even from where he stood the food that was being prepared there. He licked his lips in anticipation as the smell drifted to his nostrils.

When the two of them reached the shack, Charmander almost had to do a double take to see who was serving the food. There was a stick in her yellow tail, and though he couldn't see her black legs from where he was standing, he could see her yellow dress-like fur and the mane of white fur that puffed from her upper chest. He almost couldn't meet her red-orange eyes, and he could feel his cheeks getting hot.

"Hi, Braixen!" Torchic exclaimed. "Are you gonna be in the battle too?"

Braixen sighed sadly, looking back at the cooking utensils and foodstuffs that were all around the large shack. "Nope," she said. "I'm stuck doing the cooking today. I'm assuming this is your first time out there?"

"Yup!" Torchic said excitedly.

Braixen looked at her, her face suddenly becoming hard. "Don't be like that," she snapped. "It's anything but exciting. Trust me. I'd rather be doing anything else but serve food all day. But I'd rather serve food all day than go out into a battle."

Suddenly, Braixen's eyes met Charmander's. She stared at him quizzically, causing his face to burn even more. "What's his problem?" she asked. At that point, Charmander realized he'd been staring at her with wide eyes throughout the whole conversation.

He felt almost glued in place, and he couldn't take his eyes away from Braixen's. He probably would have stood there staring at her all day had Torchic not interjected. "Oh, he's just nervous about the battle," she explained. "He's been telling me all about it since we started walking over here."

Braixen looked at Charmander even harder. "His face looks like a strawberry," she observed. "Here." She turned away for a few moments, and as she did so, he felt Torchic kick him in the leg. He looked over at her, glaring, and only saw a sly, knowing smile on her face that was so ridiculous he almost burst out laughing. He looked back over at Braixen to see her holding a tray out to him. "Here," she said. "I gave you some extra water." And then she smiled at him.

Charmander thought his mind was going to break into a million pieces. Still red in the face, he smiled and nodded back. Braixen inched the tray a bit closer to him, nodding her head. It took Charmander a second more to understand, and he nodded, uttered a quick "thanks," and then went off with Torchic to find a place to sit.

The moment he was walking next to Torchic she proclaimed, "You like her."

"Wh- no," Charmander denied, but he could already feel his face reddening again. "No, no I don't."

Torchic rolled her eyes, then nodded to an empty table. "Over there," she said, steering herself in that direction. Charmander followed, and sat himself across from her. Finally, he noticed what was on the plate. A pile of mashed potatoes with a green spice in it, along with a slab of toast and a bowl of oats.

He looked up, and saw that Torchic was still looking at him expectantly. He sighed, shaking his head. "I don't like her," he said.

"Oh, Charmander!" she said loudly. "You say no but know within your heart the truth!"

"Will you shut up?" he said quietly.

"Well," she huffed playfully. "You really aren't a gentleman, are you? Talking to a lady like that."

"Yeah, a lady who could slit my throat with one swipe."

"Yup. You really should be careful about that. Who knows if the next Pokémon you piss off will be as forgiving as me?"

Charmander sighed and began to eat his potatoes. He looked up after two spoonful's and saw that Torchic was still staring at him. "What?" he asked.

Torchic leaned forward. "What is it about Braixen that makes her so special?" Torchic asked, using her beak to scoop up some potato. "I mean, you never look at Fennekin or me or Ponyta like that."

"Well, I know you," Charamander said. "I know Fennekin too. Besides, Tepig and Fennekin are together. And Ponyta…" he trailed off, making a circle with one of his hands. Torchic looked at him, clearly confused. He just shook his head and looked back down at his food. "I dunno," he admitted. "I just don't know."

"Hey, speaking of Braixen," Torchic said, "where's Fennekin? Isn't she supposed to be coming to the battle with us too?"

Charmander shrugged. "Dunno," he admitted. "Might be eating with Tepig or something."

"Yeah," Torchic said, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

Charmander looked at her for a moment, confused. Then the connection was made in his brain. "Oh, come on!" he said disgustedly as Torchic roared with laughter. "I'm trying to eat!"

"What's so funny?" A deep voice from behind Charmander seemed to come out of nowhere, startling him. He turned around, and saw a fair-sized figure standing over him. He had a long, curved brown face, with a mouth that was barely noticeable. His skin was red and hard like armor, with yellow stripes that looked almost painted streaking down him. His hands were yellow-clawed, and Charmander could see two brown ring-like structures on his wrists. His back also had a few brown spines on it, stretching down from behind his head, to his stubby legs, to his tail that was shaped like a red pipe and seemed to have a hole like one as well. Then, the figure smiled. "I'm kidding," he said. "Mind if I sit with you two?"

Charmander looked over at Torchic, who shrugged. Charmander looked back up at Sir Heatmor. "Sure," he said, gesturing to the bench beside him.

Heatmor nodded his thanks and sat himself on the bench. He began to eat, Charmander noticing that the fork he held as he scooped up the potatoes was comically small in his large hands. Heatmor suddenly looked up from his meal, and looked at both of the warriors in training. "You two must be the one's who're going into their first battle," Heatmor guessed.

Torchic almost seemed to leap out of her seat with joy, and Charmander almost giggled. To be noticed by a Great Warrior was the only goal Torchic had in life, it seemed, and without even laying a foot on the battlefield, she'd managed to do just that. "We are!" she exclaimed. "Did Charizard or Blakizen tell you?" she inquired.

Heatmor shook his head, then gestured over to the shack. "No, Braixen told me," he explained. "Said one of you was a little nervous."

"Oh, yes," Torchic explained. "He is, but not about the battle."

"Would you shut up?" Charmander said angrily as Torchic finished her sentence. This response resulted in a giggle from Torchic, which only served to make Charmander's face redder.

Then, without warning, even Heatmor was laughing. Charmander wanted to sink into the ground and never come out. At last, the two of them stopped laughing. Charmander was relieved, but only for a moment, as Heatmor put his hand on his shoulder. "Just remember," he said, "the battle must come first today."

Charmander looked up at Heatmor. The Great Warrior was truly smiling at him, and it wasn't out of a joke. He was actually smiling at him. Charmander suddenly knew how Torchic felt when she saw Heatmor sit down and acknowledge their existences. She must have felt on top of the world, only able to describe the feeling as floating on a cloud.

Heatmor suddenly got up. "Well," he said. "I had a large dinner last night, and I'm quite full now. I'll be training for the battle. Do you two know when to show up at the capitol building?"

"An hour before noon," Torchic said. Heatmor smiled, then left without a word. After he was out of sight, Torchic's face lit up with excitement. He thought that he cheeks would burst due to how long her grin was. "Did you see that?" she said excitedly. "Did you see _that_? Sir Heatmor knows who we are now! Yes!"

Charmander smiled. "Yeah," he said. "I know."

The two of them ate, Torchic still going on about how amazing of a Great Warrior Heatmor was, and how she wanted to strive to be just as good as he and all of the other Great Warriors were. Charmander smiled as she talked. Then she brought up Tepig. The two of them agreed that, once their food was finished, they would visit him. After a while, they were both done. Afterwards, they threw their trays into the trash and walked out, their minds set on going into the hospital to visit Tepig. One the way out, though, Charmander glanced back for one last look at Braixen. He could see her cleaning one of the small toaster ovens in the shack. For a moment, it seemed as though her eyes had darted over to him, but Charmander looked away and exited the mess hall before he could find out for sure.

As they walked down the streets of Furnace, Charmander noticed more and more Pokémon were filling the streets. The sun was still not very high in the sky, and the unusualness of this caused him to feel a dark pit within his stomach. Preparations for the battle were already being made. Charmander could feel his heart beating faster with every step, an urgent feeling of fearful excitement taking control of his mind. Torchic looked over at him and smiled. "So," she said, "how much do you want to bet Fennekin is with Tepig right now?"

"Everything I have," Charmander replied. The two of them burst out laughing. They continued to walk along, weaving in between civilians and preparing soldiers alike as they went further into the city, heading in the direction of the hospital.

After fifteen minutes of walking, they finally came to the tall, steel building that stretched up to touch the clouds that stood adjacent to the capitol building. Windows lined the building up and down and side to side, and from them Charmander could see the shadows of a few patients, though most of the windows he could not see through due to the light of the sun cascading down on them. Above the glass doors to the hospital was a large sign. "HOSPITAL" it read in large letters. Below it, smaller yet still noticeable, was the Fire Nation sigil. The sigil consisted of a ball of fire that was a brilliant orange. The ball of fire seemed almost serrated on all sides, darker orange tipping these edges. The orange flame was accompanied by two orange wings made of fire jutting from the sides of the ball. These two had uneven edges that gave the entire sigil a serrated and sharp look.

Charmander did not stare at the sigil for long. He and Torchic entered the hospital. Inside, chairs were lined up on either side of them. In front of them was a smooth, wooden desk that stretched across twenty feet and curved inwards. Sitting at the desk was one of the major medical staff members of the Fire Nation, Miss Arcanine. He large, folded tail nearly stretched up to the top of her head. Her orange, black-striped body was folded in a chair that seemed much too small for her. Her beige fur that covered all of her face except for her eyes and stretched down to her chest had always looked like a mask to Charmander.

The two of them approached her. Arcanine smiled at them knowingly. "He's upstairs," she said. "Fennekin's already up there with him."

Torchic nodded. "Thank you," she said. She turned right and Charmander followed. They passed by a few more rooms, some housing patients but most empty, and turned left. They opened up a set of double doors and entered a large, orange-painted stairwell. They climbed up it, their steps almost at an even pace with one another. After the first few steps, Torchic looked at Charmander, a small smile growing on her face. "Told you," she whispered. Charmander rolled his eyes and the two of them continued up the stairs.

419\. That was the room that Tepig was always staying in. They turned left when they opened up the doors to the fourth floor. Around them, Fire Pokémon of all shapes and sizes were running about. Charmander could see an Infernape trying to get her patient, a scraggly old Simisear, to hold still while she pushed him down the hallway in a wheelchair. The Simisear was muttering about not getting much respect, that he used to be a Great Warrior and that he should be treated better than this. His mumblings faded down the hallway as the Infernape continued to push him along.

Charmander and Torchic continued down the long corridor to Tepig's room. As they went, the bulk of patients and staff members began to thin out, until there was no one left in the hall. They continued down the hallway, leaving the bustle of the floor four lobby behind them, and finally made it to room 419. The door was closed.

Torchic grinned when she saw this, and Charmander rolled his eyes once again. Torchic mouthed the words "told you so," and indicated with her head that she wanted Charmander to reach up and open the door for her. Charmander gave her an annoyed looked. "Do you really want to be interrupting something?" he asked, a smile growing on his face as he said it.

"Yes," Torchic bobbed her head in a nod. She jumped up, one of her feet out, claws stretched. She flung her foot down on the doorknob, producing enough force to open the door. She and Charmander walked on slowly. When they did, Torchic could barely hold her laughter. Charmander could see Fennekin on top of Tepig, Fennekin's snout against Tepig's lips. Finally, unable to take it anymore, Torchic burst out laughing. Fennekin shot a startled glance over at the door, the fur on her back standing up. She sighed. "Oh," she said. "It's just you."

Fennekin jumped down from the bed. Her yellow fur glittered in the small rays of sunshine that snuck through the half-closed blinds of the large window behind her. The large orange puffs of fur in her ears stuck out, making her shadow look like it had misshapen ears. Her orange eyes glittered as well, though with emotion rather than sunlight. She looked excited, ready for the day that the three of them would soon experience.

"You ready for the battle?" Torchic asked.

"Hell yes!" Fennekin said. "Though it's too bad Braixen and my mom won't be able to come."

"Why won't Delphox be there?" Charmander asked.

Fennekin sighed. "She kind of will be and kind of won't be. She's going to be leading a defensive here at the city."

"But isn't the Red Desert five miles from here?" Torchic pipped in.

"Yes, but the Council is afraid that, if the Water Nation does push through the battle lines, they'll wreak havoc on Furnace. It's better to be safe than sorry. I just wish I could fight alongside my mother for my first time out."

"I'm sorry, but did everyone just forget I exist?"

Fennekin turned towards the bed. "Oh, shut up," she said playfully. "You _know_ I wouldn't forget about you."

"Just don't die on me," Tepig said, his eyes meeting hers. A blue blanket was pulled up to his midsection, covering his black buttocks and twined tail that had a large red tip. All Charmander and the others could see was his orange face, red nose, and yellow forehead. They could also see his black, pointed ears that shot straight up into the sky when he faced them.

"I won't," Fennekin said, a smile on her face. Tepig was smiling as well, but he looked down. Suddenly, Fennekin's face was serious. "I won't," she promised. "I'll always come back to you."

"Aw, how cliché," Tepig said. He was smiling, but Charmander could see there was real worry in his eyes when he said it. He knew that Fennekin could see it to as, a moment later, she was nuzzling her cheek against his lovingly. They both smiled. When she pulled away, Tepig looked into her eyes. "Promise."

"I promise," she said, and her smile grew wider. They stared into each other's eyes for a few more moments before Fennekin turned around and looked at Torchic and Charmander. "So," she said. "When do we have to be at the capitol building?"

"Well, the battle starts an hour before noon," Charmander said.

Fennekin looked above him, then pointed up with her paw. "Yeah, I think it's best if we leave now. If the battle's then, we might want to be at the capitol building a bit earlier to get ready."

Charmander looked behind her. Above Tepig's door was a small clock. It took a moment, but he was able to read that it was 9:45. He turned back to Fennekin and nodded. "Yeah," he replied. "Let's go."

Fennekin walked past him, and her and Torchic began to walk out. Charmander followed, but stopped in the doorway when he heard Tepig's voice. "Hey, Charmander?" he said.

Charmander turned. Tepig was looking at him, his face like a stone. Charmander walked up to his bed. "Yeah, what is it?" he asked.

Tepig looked at him for a moment. There was no way for him to conceal the concern that stood out on his face. Charmander had never seen him look like this before. He'd seen him look concerned before, of course, but something about this concern was deeper, more potent. "What is it?" Charmander repeated.

"What are we doing?" Tepig asked.

"What?"

"We've been fighting like this, all these wars, for generations. Nobody alive today even remembers when the split occurred. When did we split ourselves into Nations based on our types? Why did we even do it? Is it all just about land and nationalism, or is it something greater? It just feels… it feels like when we fight, we're just reaching into a bottomless pit for the thing at the bottom."

"But the pit wouldn't have a bottom, Tepig."

"Exactly!" Tepig threw his head back on his pillow. He stared at the ceiling for a moment. Charmander waited, watching his friend in worried anticipation. He was about to leave when Tepig let out a long sigh. "Be safe," he murmured. "Just come back."

Charmander nodded. "I will," he said. "I promise."

Tepig chuckled. "Promises. My naïve attempt at hope."

Tepig turned around, his back facing Charmander. Charmander stood there for a moment more, a bit unsure of what to say or do with himself. At last, he turned around, and trotted out of the room. He tried to get excited about the battle to come, but the negativity that Tepig had expressed hung over his thoughts like a dark cloud. It continued to do so even as he entered the capitol building, Torchic and Fennekin now by his side.


	2. Piplup I

**Piplup**

The desert was dry, and much colder than Piplup had expected. He shivered, his blue flippers wrapped around his body. His dark eyes swept the desolate landscape that was set before him. He closed them as a puff of sand blown by the gusting winds descended upon him and the army of Water Nation Pokémon that surrounded him. He was close to the front lines, while tanks and tents were set up behind him like a small community. But he paid little attention to the shouts and talk that was going on around him. His eyes only focused on the horizon before him.

He hated this, and it was clear to everyone around him that he hated this. Everyone but his father, of course, who was too busy with the Council or devising a battle plan or this, that or the other thing to pay attention to his only son. Everyone else, on the other hand, pitied him. The poor Senator's son whose first battle ended when he watched his own brother get torn in half in front of him. Poor Piplup.

Piplup wished that everyone would leave him alone. Sometimes even the other trainees made him wish he had ears to tear off. The only two he could truly tolerate were Totodile and Froakie, and Totodile had a bit too much of an innocent and childish mindset for the two of them to be able to have an insightful conversation about anything. Froakie, on the other hand, was like a brother. He could be annoying at times, and sometimes Piplup wanted to smack him upside the head for his stupidity. But he loved him nevertheless.

That was who stood silently next to Piplup, peering out at the horizon with him. Froakie's large yellow eyes could see much better than Piplup's small dark ones. Froakie was also faster, his small blue legs, the front of which ended in white hands, allowing him to scale rocks and jump high as well as give him a boost in speed. His large mane of white that surrounded his neck also gave him a look of preparedness Piplup had never seen in anyone as young as they were. He also had two while spots in his face just below a dark blue stripe in the center of his head. Piplup often joked about how it made Froakie look like an elderly Pokémon that needed spectacles to see.

But there was no joking now. Now there was only silence, save for the army behind them and the winds of the desert around them. Piplup found the silence to be bliss, and was a bit annoyed when Froakie spoke. "So this is the Red Desert, huh?" he asked.

Piplup internally grimaced. He nodded. "I hear they'll be renaming in the Blue Desert when we take it," he replied. _What am I doing?_ he thought. He hadn't wanted to make conversation with Froakie, but here he was, doing it anyway. It was most likely the politeness that his father had ingrained into his head. Piplup thought it was Tauros crap anyway. There was nothing polite about the battlefield.

"I dunno," Froakie replied. "Looks more like a Gray Desert to me."

Piplup nodded. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Froakie was smiling at him. Apparently he'd tried to tell a joke. Or perhaps he was just trying to break the silence and have a friendly conversation. Either way, Piplup didn't care. After a moment, Froakie sighed. "I know it's hard on you," Froakie said, "being back here. Empoleon shouldn't have made you come back."

"I want to be back," Piplup replied blandly. Froakie looked at him, shocked. Piplup turned towards him, hoping this would be the only time he would have to explain it to him. "If I don't do this, I become useless," he explained. "I become the Senator's son who decided that the life of a Great Warrior was too much for him, and he decided to quit because his brother died. I'm not going to be thought of like that. I need to set an example for the people, and for the future generations of Great Warriors. That nothing can stand in your way if you don't let it."

"Okay," Froakie said. "Okay, I get it. But, Piplup, it's been only five weeks."

"I don't care if it's only been five days!" Piplup snapped. "I'm here and I'm staying, and there's nothing you can do about it!"

"I wasn't…" Froakie trailed off and sighed. His eyes met the horizon once again. Piplup's did to, and they both continued to watch as the winds of the desert continued to blow dust into the air. Piplup could see out of the corner of his eye that Froakie was stealing glances at him, checking to make sure he was sound enough for the ensuing battle. Piplup scowled. Froakie's job wasn't to take care of him or to look out for him. He could do that fine on his own.

It had taken some adjusting, but after Prinplup had died, he was forced to take care of himself. No more sandwiches in bags, no more walks around Aquarius, the Water Nation capital, with his big brother. No more laughter in the house when Prinplup told a snarky joke. Everything had dried up, like a raisin. Piplup made his own sandwiches. He didn't take walks anymore, instead took to whacking dummies for eight hours a day, coming home sore and tired. No more jokes were told in the house. But the largest amount of damage the death of his brother had done was far from any of this.

It was, by and large, accepted that all Pokémon believed in the great God of them all, Arceus. Arceus, the divine being that rules us all, good grace be to him. There was a temple in Aquarius right next to the capitol building where anyone could go in and ask Arceus to do this or do that for them. Most everyone went every few weeks. There was no formal religion based on the deity. Some said that he controlled everything, and that his plan was ever-bending in the world. Others said that everyone was born with a plan for their lives already etched into time like threads in a blanket. Others still said that Arceus was merely the one that started it all, that he merely spun a wheel named Time and left it spinning.

Piplup, though, believed in none of it. His only belief was in the physical plane of existence. Arceus and the Cloud, Darkrai and the Dirt. All of it was pure fiction, nothing more than comfort for those that needed it. He would never vocalize these thoughts, though. He would just let them eat him alive on the inside, wait until his dying day to vocally denounce the one true God and his counterpart.

But until then, he would fight.

While he and Froakie looked out at the horizon, a shadow crossed Piplup's vision. He looked up, not betraying any of the hate he felt when he saw the face of his smiling father, Empoleon, looking down at him. The large, golden trident that was his face masked his tiny blue eyes. His black and white body towered over the two trainees. Froakie had to stretch his neck in order to see Empoleon's face.

"Well, now," the Senator said. "Wouldn't you two like to go a little farther back?"

Piplup turned around, surveying the army that was stretched out behind him. Blue tanks and green tents were scattered across a half mile radius. Many were filled with soldiers, and one a few tents back from the front lines housed Simipour, one of the medics for the Nation. Above all else, though, were the flags. They stretched high in the air, all of them mounted on eight foot poles. Yellow triangular flags, the Water Nation sigil of a trident made entirely of water printed on each of them.

Piplup turned back to his father. "We're fine," he said, a hint of contempt seeping into his voice. Empoleon seemed not to notice, making Piplup's anger a further growing beast.

"If you say so," Empoleon shrugged. It took all of Piplup's willpower not to jump at his father's throat and screech at him. "You were there! You were right next to him, not three feet away, and you couldn't stop it from happening! Because you're weak!"

But Piplup remained silent. He didn't want to start a conflict with his father, not now. Not when it was so close of a time to a conflict that everyone had to be ready for.

What Piplup was not ready for was when Empoleon took thirty steps in front of him, then turned around to face the entire army. "My troops!" Empoleon bellowed. All talking and laughing Piplup had heard behind him ceased. "You all know who I am! I am Senator Empoleon of the Water Nation! Today, I am leading the charge against Fire Nation to take back what is rightfully ours; the Blue Desert!"

Cheers followed this announcement. Piplup could hear the annoying whooping in the back of him as a group of Balstoise began to stomp and cheer for their oh-so-loving leader. Empoleon raised one of his flippers to silence the crowd, and silent they became. Piplup waited as Empoleon surveyed the crowd. He sighed, then put his flippers to around his mouth, preparing himself to scream at his father to get on with it. He didn't have to, though. "However," Empoleon continued, "this is not a battle where it is wise for us to attack the Fire Nation alone."

Suddenly, Piplup could feel the ground vibrating underneath him. He could see small puffs of sand every twenty or so feet in the desert. He glanced at Froakie, who looked just as nervous as he felt. Froakie had his front legs out like he was attempting to hold his balance, and Piplup was doing with his flippers. At last, shapes began to dig their ways out of the ground. Piplup felt his stomach drop as he looked over at his father.

A Pokémon much taller than his father stood next to him. He had a large, foul head, with a rows of sharp teeth visible in his mouth. A large yellow star was visible on his face. Spikes were also present on his arms and legs. Large fins stretched down from his arms. Arms that ended with two long, jagged claws. Empoleon smiled next to this figure while the crowd murmured with apprehension.

"Today," Empoleon announced, "the Water Nation presents its newest ally; the Ground Nation!"

The crowd's murmuring continued to gain, a chorus of buzzing that annoyed Piplup when it continued to grow louder. At last, both Empoleon and the figure beside him raised their arms, silencing everyone. Piplup glared as the figure spoke. "I," he said, "am Senator Garchomp, the Head Council War Strategist for the Ground Nation. It has come to our attention that the Water Nation needs our help. And so, we've decided to make a deal.

"Water Nation will receive half of the desert to do with what they please. Whether it's to build a city, collect sand for whatever reason I suppose, or just as a protective barrier between them and Fire Nation. That will be yours no matter what. The rest of the desert will go to the Ground Nation. With it, we hope to expand our own land and to build a small town here."

Empoleon stepped forward now. "We all want the same thing," he explained. "More land and more power for our nation and for ourselves. With the help of Ground Nation and Senator Garchomp, we will be able to achieve these goals. Our pact is our binding word. We will unite to defeat the enemy. To crush Fire Nation, and all that it stands for!"

A sudden surging cheer rolled through the crowd. Piplup shivered at the realization that, in only a moment, his own father had turned the Water Nation into ashes. He turned, his worried eyes meeting Froakie's worried eyes. Then he turned towards his father. There he was, Empoleon, father of one yet father of none, and soon to be the destroyer of the Water Nation itself.


	3. Charmander II

**Charmander**

The capitol building was nothing special on the inside. Not at first glance. Wood panels, a light brown and smoothed down by constructors, were highlighted by the flames that were always lit within the chandlers. The floor was almost reflective in how clean it was and how the flames reflected off of it. But it wasn't here, in this main lobby, where the army would form. No, that was ahead of them.

Charmander was walking in between Torchic and Fennekin. They were walking, almost in-step with one another, towards two large, brass doors that the other end of the lobby. Beyond those doors would be the Grouping Room. Though there was no official name for it, the Grouping Room had stuck with the members of the Fire Nation as an "official" name for the room. Charmander had heard of the room, mostly from Quilava, who had been in there before. He had informed them once that the room was bigger on the inside, that it was almost as tall and as wide as the entirety of the capitol building. Charmander was skeptical, though he had never known Quilava to lie before.

When the trio pushed open the doors with an extreme amount of effort, Charmander felt these stories of the room hit him at full force. The room was dimly-lit, with a circle of seats around a podium that sat erect in the middle of the room. But there wasn't just one circle of seats. There were rows of them, stretching far up and far to the side. The top seats, if there were any seats that high, were in pitch darkness. That was when Charmander realized the only light in the room came from a small candle that had been placed on the podium. How it was able to illuminate so much of the room, Charmander did not understand. Perhaps the room only looked big.

Torchic and Fennekin, he saw, were gaping at the size of the room. He too was shocked by how large it was, though he was more shocked by the fact that there were already dozens of soldiers scattered throughout the room. Some of them watched the warriors in training thoughtfully, as though they were extremely interested to know where they would sit. Others had merely glanced at them as they were straining to open the door, and had turned away with a lack of interest when they were able to get in unharmed.

"Come on," Charmander said, breaking the silence of the trio. He saw Torchic's head snap towards him, as though she were awaking from a dream. "Let's find some seats," he suggested.

Torchic and Fennekin nodded. After a bit of deliberation, the trio decided it best to sit somewhere high in the stadium-like room. They turned to the left of the door, where there was a small, concrete staircase that would lead them to higher seats. The trio began to climb up. They had walked up roughly four steps when Fennekin slipped. She cried out for a moment, alerting Torchic, who grabbed her by her neck fur and heaved her back to her feet. Fennekin bowed her head in thanks, and they continued up the long rows of seats.

At last, after what seemed like forever, they were at the final row. There was no light, the candle sitting on the podium now nothing more than a speck in a darkness that threatened to engulf it. Fennekin protested, saying that they should get closer so that they are actually able to see the seats they're sitting in. Charmander and Torchic agreed eagerly. They climbed down eight rows, then squeezed themselves into three seats. Charmander sat within the row, Torchic to his right and Fennekin to her right. It wasn't until Charmander heard a sigh next to him that he realized someone was to his left.

He turned, using his tail to illuminate the world. He could make out a familiar face and an orange body with black stripes. At first, his mind flashed to her, sitting at the front desk in the hospital, but he knew it wasn't her. It was Sir Arcanine the Headstrong, one of the Great Warriors of the Fire Nation. Upon realizing who it was, Arcanine flashed Charmander a knowing smile. "First time, isn't it?" he asked.

"Um, yeah," Charmander admitted, scratching the back of his head. Now Torchic and Fennekin were leaning in. Charmander could feel Torchic's rushed breathing, a testament to her excitement at being able to interact with another Great Warrior. Charmander tried to ignore her and listen to Arcanine as he spoke.

"I remember when I was your age," Arcanine reflected. "I think I was, anyway? How old are you?"

"Fifteen," Charmander and Torchic said in unison, though Torchic more excitedly. Fennekin muttered fourteen from behind them, but no one seemed to notice.

"Then I was your age," Arcanine said. "I remember my first battle. It was tough, and it took a toll on me. But I fought bravely for many more battles. And now, here I am, thirty-five years later, and still I fight for the cause that we have."

"The cause?" Charmander asked, though he felt like he was merely echoing Arcanine's words.

Arcanine smiled. "The cause," he said. "It's to gain land and defend ourselves from those who want to take it from us. It's for the cause that we fight. The cause of protecting those we love, and keeping our freedom to do what we want, to say what we want, to feel how we want, and to crush those that try to take those rights away from us. It's for the cause that we fight. It's for the future we fight."

Arcanine leaned in, and the feature of his face that Charmander always forgot about but always gave him chills revealed itself. Arcanine's eye was clouded, one of his brown eyes staring sightlessly ahead, always. It was the first injury that Arcanine had ever received, and it had been during his first battle that it had occurred.

"It's for us that we fight."

 _KA-ROOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!_

Charmander was shocked and almost deafened by the loud blow of the horn. Arcanine smiled and sat back without a word. Charmander turned to his right to see Torchic still leaning over him, her feathers ruffled with excitement. He glared at her, though not malevolently. She smiled and blushed a bit, sinking back down into her chair. Charmander sighed. For being a month older than him, Torchic acted almost like a child at times. But Charmander admired the fact that she held onto that childhood innocence, that she was always so happy. He had a sinking feeling that today may change that.

The figure at the podium cleared his throat. Charmander could tell that it was Senator Typhlosion. The ring of fire around his neck was flaring, a sign of order, as many soldiers were mumbling amongst themselves. He could see Typhlosion's hand fiddling with the horn that he'd just blown, as though he were preparing himself to blow it again. But there was no need; slowly, the room quieted, until not even a whisper could be heard amongst the crowd. Charmander could almost see a smile on Typhlosion's face when this occurred. Typhlosion cleared his throat, which the microphone at the podium picked up and reverberated from speakers throughout the room. At last, Typhlosion spoke.

"Today," he began, "is a day of hope. But it is also a day that not all of us will come back from. Today is the day that we must defend the Red Desert against the Water Nation. They wish to take it back from us, this land that we rightfully have, that we have rightfully _named_! And they think that they can just waltz in here and take it from us? No! This is not a world where such weakness can exist. We must be strong, and we must realize what is important to all of us.

"The Water Nation killed the Emboars. They were a well-loved family, always kind to those that were around them. But the Water Nation took two of our best warriors and cut their throats, right in front of their son's eyes. Lady Emboar the Crusher, and Sir Emboar the Revered, taken from us with a few short swipes. But no more! We will not allow the Water Nation to do this to us again. Do you really want them to come in here, to pillage our city, to murder our women and children? No. You don't. _We_ don't. So we need to fight!"

The crowd erupted in a roar of support. Charmander even felt himself cheering for the fight. Because it wasn't about conquering land; it was about protecting those that were within the city. The citizens that couldn't defend themselves. The women and children that walked the streets of Furnace every single day. It was about protecting the cause, and making it stand for something. And Charmander could feel a fire in his heart…

But that fire quickly went out. Not because of something Typhlosion said, but because of shock. Behind Typhlosion, he saw a flaming figure step out from the darkness. The figure was large, and seemed to be completely on fire. Even before he saw the wings and the talons, Charmander made the connection immediately. Torchic and Fennekin were just as shocked as everyone else. Even Arcanine's mouth was agape in utter shock. But there was joy in the eyes of those that sat in the chairs around and above the podium.

 _Senator Moltres!_ Charmander's mind screamed. _He's alive!_

Moltres walked slowly to the podium, as though the bones in his wings and feet were a tremendous effort to hold up. He scanned the room, his wings still out, still revealing the fast fire that naturally encased his large, yellow body. His beak was long, and it sat in a perpetual state of blankness, just like his eyes as he scanned the room. But in his voice, when he spoke, was the truth of emotion.

"It has been almost three months since I revealed myself publicly," Moltres said. "And for that I would like to apologize. I can assure you that I am alright, and very much alive. Though there have been rumors of my death circulating, none of these are true. Well, there is _some_ truth to it. To be honest, it was the deaths of Sir and Lady Emboar's that caused me to go into hiding. I blame myself for their deaths, no matter how little sense it makes. We never planned it out well, just sent them in to spy on the Water Nation. And, being the Head War Strategist of the Council, I… I…"

Moltres trailed off, and Charmander didn't need to see his face well to know that tears were streaming down it. Typhlosion sighed, then wrapped his arms around the much larger bird. Charmander had always heard stories about how fierce Moltres had been in his youth. Nothing, not even an army of four thousand Bug Nation soldiers could stand in his way. But here was this legendary warrior now, crying like a baby in front of his men. Was that what war made you? Nothing but a shell of what you had been before?

Moltres finally stopped. An audible sniff echoed throughout the room. Nobody said anything for a moment. At last, Moltres managed to fully gain his composure. He cleared his throat. "It is because of this, and much deliberation. That I have decided on a three part plan. The back defenses will be led by Lady Delphox. Should the Water Nation break through the first two lines of defense, she and her army will be there to guard the walls of Furnace, and ensure that they do not fall.

"The middle defenses are much less organized, but are still important. They will be scattered on the dry lands between Furnace and the Red Desert. It is a five mile stretch, and we will all need to be prepared. There will not be many tanks entering the front lines, as many will be staying back in order to defend Furnace should the first line of defense fall. This five mile stretch, by the way, will be monitored by Sir Arcanine and me. He is fast, and I can see from the air. We will get back to my place in all of this in a moment.

"The front line is where all other Senators, Great Warriors, and trainees will go. There will be transport vehicles to get all of you out there, but from that point forward, you must make sure that no Water Nation enemies break through to Furnace. This is not about the Red Desert; this is about the defense of our capital and the people who live here. We are their protectors, and we cannot afford to lose sight of that.

"As for me; I will mostly be surveying the five miles between the Red Desert and Furnace. I will also be passing any messages that need to be passed to others based upon what I observe. For example, if the second line of defense is failing, I will alert Delphox ahead of time in order to get her and her men ready for the incoming attack. I will not stand idle; and neither shall you.

"Soldiers! You have already been previously assigned your positions, and you will follow the orders you were given. Delphox; take your soldiers and position them as you will. Arcanine; get in the lead tank and lead your men towards the Desert. Spread them out and arm yourselves appropriately. As for everyone else, trainees included, get to the transport vehicles. We must do as we will!"

Moltres lifted a wing into the air, and recited the words of the Fire Nation. "THE FLAME SHINES ETERNAL!"

"THE FLAME SHINES ETERNAL!" the crowd shouted back. Charmander could feel his heart racing. His first battle was about to begin.


	4. Chikorita I

**Chikorita**

She thought it couldn't get any worse than seeing her own sister get torn apart in front of her. She was wrong. Pain was a lot worse.

The blood welled from her side. Her torn light green skin was slowly darkening with the stains of her own red blood. She had never realized how dark blood could actually be, especially when it flows out fast. It had been so unexpected yet also so predictable. Of course he had come after her next. It was only reasonable. First her father. Then Bayleef. Now her. All three parts of the Meganium family wiped out in one single battle.

Senator Rhyperior of the Rock Nation continued to stalk towards her. Chikorita could do nothing but gasp for breath and reflect. How had she even ended up in this situation? It felt like only yesterday her and Bayleef were sitting in the capitol building, watching as the bright light of the sin slowly faded as it sunk lower, lower, until it was down below the horizon, no longer visible to anyone. It was one days like that, warm days where the sunshine was nice and the sunset was better, that she felt truly free from the vice of the cruelty of the world.

But now Bayleef was dead. Her father, Meganium, was dead. Even those that were still alive were dead, even if they didn't know it yet.

The Rock Nation's boast that they would take over Ivy City had seemed like just that; a boast. How could one Nation that had been statistically crushed by the Grass Nation time and time again boast about a feat that seemed almost impossible for them to accomplish? And yet they were so close, now. Chikorita had no idea how they had managed to pull it off. It was almost like some sort of sick joke from Arceus, the god that she had considered dead ever since her mother had died giving birth to her. There was no Arceus for her from the start, no comfort of that religion, and so she had to live day by day in a world that left her no choice.

What was wrong with her mind? Her vision? Everything was fading, becoming blurry. She could see darkness out of the corners of her vision, as she saw the large, lumbering, brown and orange shape of Senator Rhyperior coming closer to her. She wanted to look him in the eyes as he killed her, but she couldn't do it. She couldn't even make out where his eyes were.

And then the whirring began. Chikorita did not need to see to know that the horn that protruded from Rhyperior's face was now twirling swiftly. Twirling, twirling, round and round, coming for her, to go through her neck just as it had gone through the neck of her sister. At that moment, Chikorita decided that it didn't matter whether she looked into his eyes or not. He didn't care; he had enjoyed killing Bayleef, which was evident enough in his eyes. Why would he even spare her for anything?

Chikorita sighed and lay back, closing her eyes, listening as the constant whirring came closer and closer. Just like the Rock Nation army had done. Every day, little by little, their camp managed to become closer and close to the walls of Ivy City. Now it was only a mile away, a short distance on the battlefield, which could and had once stretched out across ten miles of forest. But now? Now it was nothing. Now it didn't matter. Now the blood rushed out of her body so quick that it never mattered.

Suddenly, the whirring stopped. Chikorita opened her eyes slowly, unable to do anything quickly. She could see the wheels of a transport vehicle in front of her, though it was upside down from her position. Upon seeing it, she quickly leapt up, causing pain to course through her tiny body. She screamed and fell back to the ground, but not before seeing two things. The first was insignificant. It was merely a flag depicting a large, swirling tornado made of leaves, the sigil of the Grass Nation.

The second thing, though, it what got her crawling away. A large, blue figure had tacked Rhyperior, and was wrestling him to the ground. Chikorita had no doubt in her mind that it was Senator Venusaur. She could hear him, faint and muffled, shouting at her to go, to get away, and to crawl away. She kept going, the voice fading, fading, becoming softer and softer. Then the whirring began again. She heard a loud scream, and she jumped. Then the whirring stopped, and all was silent.

Visions flashed into her mind. Her father, being loaded into a transport truck, while her sister had been left on the ground, dead. Was her father alive? No, hadn't Rhyperior gutted him? Gutted. Right?

Her body was drenched in blood, but she only had the faintest idea. All she knew was that she was feeling a great rushing sensation, as though her body itself was leaving her. She felt as though, if she lay in the tall grass that now encased her, even if it was just for a little while, she would be healed of the pain.

She closed her eyes, and unknowingly touched Death. She also did not know that she had been spared; Death would not take her on this day.


	5. Piplup II

**Piplup**

Piplup stood, his arms folded, watching his father and Garchomp with suspicion. Ever since the announcement had been made that the Water and Ground Nations had made an alliance, both tribes had been mingling with one another. Piplup understood their train of thought; they wanted to get to know their new allies, to understand them, and to perhaps befriend one another. But he knew that train of thought was stupid. All it did was provide the Ground Nation with a chance to weaken the Water Nation's borders of trust. To invite the Ground Nation into their fold was practically suicidal. There was no reason that they had for trusting them, nor did they have any reason to make the alliance in the first place. Sure, they'd lost a few recent battles with the Fire Nation over the last few months. But that didn't mean they needed help.

"Piplup, stop staring!"

Froakie's whispered words sounded like a shout back to reality. Piplup shook his head, and realized with a start that he had been staring at Empoleon and Garchomp, not with suspicion, but with a glare and grimace of hatred so obvious that anyone who had passed by would understand Piplup was angered by this newly formed alliance. Piplup turned his attention to Froakie, feeling his face redden like a beacon as he did so.

"I get it," Froakie said. "I don't trust them either."

"There's no reason why the Ground Nation would agree to this unless it was for their benefit," Piplup explained. "It's so simple. They want us to trust them, to be welcomed into the fold of the Water Nation. And then they want to take a knife and slit our throats onstage, where everyone can watch and scream when they do it. You and I both know what's going to happen when the battle begins. They're going to start picking us off, one by one, and my father won't be any the wiser. It's so obvious, so plain to see, but he's too much of a dunce, too blind to see what's right in front of his face."

"It's not just Garchomp," Froakie said. "What about your father? This isn't like him to be so… so trusting. I know he isn't smart, but Arceus, he could at least _try_ to do something that won't get everyone here killed."

Piplup turned back towards Empoleon and Garchomp. They were huddled together, like two conspirators discussing plans of prosper and glory that only they would receive. He wasn't that stupid, even if he was stupid. Piplup knew it and Froakie knew it. Something else was going on, and how no one else could see it was beyond Piplup. Did these soldiers, these fighters of the cause that were all around him, did they truly just follow order and go with the flow, not even blinking an eye when their leaders make stupid decisions that may cost them their lives. Piplup shook his head and looked down at his feet. They were a light yellow, a sharp contrast with the brown sand below them. How dumb could someone get?

"What's next," Piplup said aloud, mostly to himself but partially to Froakie, "we wave a white flag of surrender the minute we see transport vehicles and ask kindly for an alliance with the Fire Nation?"

"Piplup, you're being ridiculous!" Froake said.

" _This whole situation is ridiculous!_ "

Piplup instinctively covered his mouth. Soldiers had stopped their conversing and were staring at him. He could feel everyone's eyes, Water and Ground Nation alike, boring into him. He wanted to disappear. Perhaps, he thought, the eyes would melt him and he could avoid the embarrassment that he knew was about to arrive. He turned, seeing Empoleon and Garchomp staring at him. Empoleon's eyes were glazed with fear, as though Piplup had just shouted out a secret that no one should have known about. Garchomp, though, was scarier. His eyes betrayed no emotion; they were as blank as a canvas before an artist paints upon it.

At last, someone from the crowd spoke. "Piplup," the voice said. "Would you mind coming here for a moment?"

Piplup recognized the voice as that of Senator Feraligatr, the Head Council Advisor for the Water Nation. Piplup looked around quickly once more. He saw his father's face, saw that it was still glazed over with fear, and couldn't help but feel good on the inside. _Perhaps he's not as stupid as I thought_. With that in mind, Piplup began to march towards Feraligatr's voice.

Conversation slowly began to continue, and was back to the volume it was prior to Piplup's protest by the time he reached the small blue tent where Feraligatr was standing. He beckoned Piplup in, and Piplup obeyed, dipping his head as he pushed the curtain of the tent away. He stepped inside, observing the objects there. There was a small wooden table accompanied by four stool for sitting. In the left corner of the tent was an arsenal of assorted weaponry. Weapons weren't primarily used in battle, but when appropriate, they were. In the right corner was a suit of silver armor with blue around the edges that sat crumpled on the ground. Atop it was a large blue sword with a silver hilt. The sword's power seemed to radiate and gave the tent an air of protection.

Piplup sat on one of the stools. He watched as Feraligatr, the blue crocodile-like Pokémon that walked on two legs, was fairly bulky, had light blue skin, and who had large red scales running down his back, lumbered over to the stool across from him. Feraligatr sat, and Piplup watched as he folded his large, clawed hands on the table. Piplup stared into the Senator's intimidating orange eyes. Feraligatr stared right back, and the two of them sat in silence for a while.

At last, Feraligatr sighed. He leaned forward, but before he could speak, Piplup interrupted. "I know what I did was wrong," he said. "I'm not going to deny that. In fact, I'm not going to deny anything. But you let my nitwit of a father ally us with the Ground Nation. Alliances with any other Nation are dangerous! You, _you_ of all Senator's should know that! You're the smartest one, and that's not just my opinion. Everyone knows you're smart. So how could you, and Walrein, and Suicune, how could all of you, being much smarter than my father, even _allow_ him to consider this?"

Feraligatr looked at Piplup in silence for a while. At last, he leaned back on the stool. "Are you done?" he asked.

"Yes." Piplup glared at the Senator, wondering what kind of a game he was trying to play. Would he answer his question? Or would he continue to give him Tauros-crap?

Feraligatr looked past Piplup for a moment, and Piplup knew he was making sure that no one was there. He leaned in again, looked back and forth for a moment, and then began to speak.

"Your father isn't the one who did this," he explained. "I was the one who pitched it to the Council first. They were just as skeptical as you are now. But I insisted that this was for the good of the Nation. You see, Piplup, out of all the Senator's that are alive today, Senator Garchomp of the Ground Nation is considered the most notorious in battle. He's killed… well, he's killed a lot. The rumor mill has churned out the theory that he's killed over a million Pokémon, and that the first was his own father. But rumors are rumors, Piplup; they have no substance as far as we're concerned.

"But, we also do know him to be dangerous. The Ground Nation has never gone against us for a long time. You may have only been eight or nine the last time that happened. Imagine; six or seven years. So, you're probably thinking; why would we want to ally with them if Garchomp is so dangerous? Because, if he turns his back on us, even for an instant, we have a chance of taking him out and ridding Ground Nation the chance of defeating us in battle before the battle can even begin."

"But what about all those Ground Nation soldiers?" Piplup asked. "They could easily have orders to turn against us the moment the battle begins!"

"I never said the plan was a clean one," Feraligatr admitted. "We may be setting ourselves up to fail here. The hope right now is that, when we kill Garchomp, it will instigate a three-way battle. By doing this, we might be able to get the Fire Nation to focus on Ground long enough for us to slip through their defenses."

"Wait," Piplup asked, stunned but also feeling stupid for not having suspected the plan sooner. "You're going to…"

"Take Furnace?" Feraligatr beamed with pride. "Yes, we are."

"But, hold on," Piplup said, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with all of this new information. "We're going to just defeat both of them? How is that going to help us? And besides, by doing this we'll be instigating a battle between us and the Ground Nation! How do you think they'll react when we kill one of their most valued Senator's?"

"He's dangerous!" Feraligatr bellowed.

The Senator looked behind Piplup to make sure that no one would enter the tent flap. Piplup could feel the tension of the moment almost squeezing him as Feraligatr continued to stare at the entrance to the tent. At last, he looked away. He continued to speak, but his voice was much lower and softer than Piplup had ever heard it. "When we battled the Ground Nation years ago, it was Garchomp who led the front lines. They slaughtered us, but it was truly _he_ who slaughtered us. Imagine it; bodies piled up, all of them with wound that he personally inflicted upon them. There was no escape from his carnage. He was like a machine, systematically exterminating each and every one of us being his only programming.

"He left everything that he touched in shambles. He left everyone in shambles. There was blood on the streets that took weeks to wash away, that was how much of it there was. He alone killed thousands in those few days. We lost. If he hadn't been on the front lines, if he had been, say, _dead_ , then we wouldn't have."

Piplup understood. The tall, grinning figure that was Senator Garchomp was dangerous. And it was in their best interest to get rid of the danger.

Feraligatr stood up and began to walk out of the tent. "I understand your concern," he said. "But it shouldn't be yours. Keep your mouth shut about this. Blab to no one, not even Froakie. And, by the way, I'm glad you have to decency to stay alert. Arceus knows there's not a lot of trainees like you left."

Feralgatr left with Piplup trailing behind him. As Piplup made his way back over to Froakie, a few members of both Nations cast him wary glances. But he didn't care; it was all a part of the plan. He looked to his right as he approached Froakie. There they were, Empoleon and Garchomp, talking amongst themselves, still huddled together. Piplup hoped the battle would begin soon; merely the way in which Garchomp had displayed no emotion from his sudden outburst was disturbing.

"Well?" Froakie asked as Piplup approached him. "What happened?"

Piplup looked into the face of his friend, truly his only friend outside of Totodile. But even then, Piplup would choose Froakie over Totodile as a partner in battle any time. Froakie was his brother, there was no question about it. Could he lie to his brother?

Before he had a chance to speak, a trumpet sounded. "Battle positions!" Empoleon bellowed.

Piplup looked out at the desert that stretched before him. As far as his vision could go, he saw them. They were small shapes, quickly gaining on the army that awaited them. Transport vehicles, Piplup observed, all of them housing prepared soldiers. Meanwhile, soldiers began to rush around, grabbing any armor and weaponry they could find, quickly preparing themselves as the vehicles approached. Even Froakie had gone to find armor or a weapon to defend himself with.

But Piplup stayed his ground. If he was going to fight, he wanted to fight them head-on. He would worry about armor and weapons later. His best defense was his speed, and his best weapon was water.

As the vehicles approached, Empoleon, who'd donned a golden suit of armor, pulled a massive sword from his sheath. As he did so, he raised it up. It glinted as he shouted the words of the Water Nation. "FROM THE SEA RISE THE ARMIES!"

"FROM THE SEA RISE THE ARMIES!" the soldiers responded. Cannons were made ready. Tank guns were turned towards the approaching vehicles. Soldiers began to charge. Piplup watched and waited.


	6. Charmander III

**Charmander**

Charmander stretched himself upwards, trying to get a good look outside of the transport vehicle. In the distance, though barely visible, he could see small shapes running at them. Charmander sat back down on one of the benches that was attached to the wall of the vehicle. He shifted, feeling strange and uneasy in the armor. He had a silver helmet on that made him almost completely blind due to its massive size and a silver breastplate that was snug yet felt constraining. He also had a silver belt tied around his waist, though there was no sword in the sheath that came with it.

He sighed, his leg twitching as he thought of how nice it would be to step outside and throw off the helmet. The breastplate, though uncomfortable, at least served a better purpose than the helmet. At least the breastplate wasn't making it difficult for him to see. Though he wondered a bit why he and Torchic hadn't been given weapons. Even Fennekin had a small knife that she was able to take out of the sheath that was tied around her waist. So why hadn't they received any? Was it a short supply? Or was it because this was their first time battling and they weren't accustomed to using weapons outside of practice?

Charmander's thoughts were interrupted when Torchic, who was sitting next to him, nudged his side. He looked over at her, barely able to make out the silver armor that she was also wearing. "You're shaking," she said, and Charmander could see out of the corner of the helmet's opening that her eyes were glimmering with nervousness. He wouldn't be surprised to find out her heart was beating more rapidly than his was.

"Just anxious," he admitted. "This helmet's making me blind as a Zubat."

Torchic chuckled a bit, but it was a nervous chuckle. "Are _you_ okay?" Charmander asked.

She started at the question and her eyes seemed to widen for a moment. But when she answered him, her voice was calm. "Yeah," she said. "I'm pretty excited. I can't wait to be out there."

She didn't sound excited. It felt like all of the excitement had been drained out of her as they approached the battlefield. And now they were here, and she was no longer about the battle, about her excitement, as she had been before. Charmander couldn't help but worry. He hadn't expected her to be shut up by her nerves so quickly, let alone at all. He was shocked to see her this way, but he could relate. He too was a bit nervous, and he was sure that his shaking leg wasn't just because he wanted the damn helmet off.

Suddenly, there was a muffled bang. Charmander turned his head to the front of the vehicle. At the wheel was an Infernape. She grabbed the radio that sat next to her and spoke into it. "Transport Vehicle 101-R, do you copy?"

The radio returned with nothing but static.

The Infernape spoke into the radio again, this time more firmly. "Transport Vehicle 101-R, do you copy?"

Again, nothing but static.

"Transport Vehicle-?"

That was all she could say before the front of the vehicle was torn apart. The blast pushed Charmander, Torchic, and all of the soldiers that they had been in the vehicle with to the back. The back doors of the vehicle swung open, and everyone was sent flying and sprawling to the dusty, dry ground. Charmander felt sand in his eyes and rubbed them as he stood. He looked over at the transport vehicle, or at least what was left of it. The front of the vehicle was gone, along with Infernape, and it was burning. The vehicle was still moving, and did so for a few more seconds before tipping over, hitting the ground, and exploding. Charmander put up his arm to guard his face from any shrapnel.

Then he realized he had never checked to see if Torchic had made it out alive. He looked around franticly, unable to see her. Then, he realized, he still had the helmet on. He took it off and tossed it to the ground. The world suddenly became brighter, and there was Torchic, still on the ground. She was looking up at Charmander, her eyes wide, her breathing heavy and fast. "We," she said. "We just almost… we…"

Her words were cut off by a battle cry. Charmander turned and saw a Blastoise heading towards him. The large blue soldier wore no armor, as the shell that was his body protected him. Two large, silver water cannons were stuck up straight in the air. However, he did not just have those as a weapon; in his hand was a large, silver sword that he prepared to slice down atop Charmander.

Charmander readied himself to charge at the Blastoise, his head racing but his mind clear. Suddenly, before he could do so, another shape clad in gold armor clashed swords with the Blastoise. The Blastoise looked surprised and backed away, glaring at the figure in front of him. It took Charmander a moment to realize that it was Sir Heatmor.

Heatmor glared back at the solider. "You don't want to do this," he told him. "Retreat and you can survive."

The Blastoise did not. He instead swung his sword upwards, screaming as he charged at his opponent. Heatmor did not move. As the sword came down, Heatmor blocked it easily with his own. From his long, droopy snout came a stream of fire. The fire came down quickly on the Blastoise's feet, setting them ablaze. The Blastoise, in his moment of pain, dropped the sword. Then, from his mouth came a stream of water, which put out the blaze. But it was already too late.

As the Blastoise had leaned over to save his feet from burning, Heatmor had knocked the sword against his back. Blastoise grunted and fell. Heatmor continued to bash the Blastoise's shell in with the sword. Charmander felt almost frightened because of how barbaric it was. After a few more bashes, the shell broke open. Heatmor sent more fire inside, and the Blastoise screamed. Heatmor took up his sword, the blade gleaming in the mid-day sun, and sent the blade down on the head of the fallen Water Nation soldier. Charmander turned away.

Heatmor approached them, sheathing his bloodied blade. "Are you two okay?" he asked.

Charmander nodded. He looked over at Torchic, who, for a moment, seemed to be entranced by the mutilated body of the Blastoise. Then she too nodded, though Charmander could see how reluctant she was to do so. She stood, and spoke. "That was so… I just don't know," she said.

"I know," Heatmor said. "War is not organized. It's merely something that happens."

He looked around the battlefield, scanning for more soldiers. He whipped himself around, unsheathing his blade, and struck a figure behind the two trainees. Charmander turned, shocked, to see a Swampert had been impaled with the blade. Heatmor pulled the blade back, and the soldier fell. The solider breathed in, and never breathed out.

"Why don't you two accompany me?" Heatmor offered. "We can go to the front lines, help to push back the Water Nation."

"Okay," Charmander heard come out of his mouth. But as he said so, his eyes drifted to the battlefield. He could see his father, silver armor on, fighting Water Nation soldiers. He did not have a weapon, though; he was two or three feet off the ground, breathing fire down at those that were attacking him, melting their armor and skin with ease. Everything else he could not make out. It was all chaotic. How were these the front lines? They looked like a jumbled mess of randomness.

"Organized chaos," Heatmor said. Charmander looked up at him to see he too was looking out at the carnage that stretched before them. He sighed. "No one ever learns."

That was when the ground opened up beneath him.

He let out a short yelp as his foot was pulled in a bit. Charmander jumped back, shock coursing through his body for a second, a second where he felt helpless to do anything. Then he was on whatever was pulling Heatmor beneath the earth.

It was a Gabite, its large fins and red stomach visible as Charmander jumped at it. With all his strength he tried to pull it up, to pull it off of Heatmor. But it was no use; the Gabite grinned at him, then flung him away. Charmander felt his head hit the ground with a hard knock, and his vision blurred. He sat up slowly, unable to definitively make out any of the distorted shapes that he saw before him.

Then he could see Torchic, attempting to pull the Gabite's away from Heatmor. They crowded around him, four, five, six, more. Tearing off his armor, tearing into his flesh. Heatmor screamed, a scream that told Charmander he had not been expecting to die today. Another Gabite that was digging into Heatmor slashed at Torchic. Charmander saw blood fly, then saw her body thump to the ground. _NO!_ his mind screamed, and he stood up. He took three steps, then collapsed back down. He closed his eyes for a moment, regaining concentration. Then he stood, and made his way over to Torchic.

He heard a shout to his right, his name. He turned, meeting Heatmor's eyes. Half of the Great Warrior's body was submerged beneath the desert sand. His face was torn to shreds, his body almost invisible due to the Gabite's that surrounded him. He was sinking further and further into the ground. But he had one last message for Charmander, the final thing he said before claws scratched away his eyes and blue bodies pulled him down into the sand.

"Protect her."

At that, his eyes were gone, and so was he, nothing more than a hole in the ground where he had been. He could still hear his pained screams as he picked up Torchic, could hear them getting louder and more painful and chilling to listen to as he picked her up, and could hear them quieting as he ran towards the nearest medical vehicle.

Before he could get there though, she woke up. "Charmander?" she asked. Then she jumped out of his arms, staring around wildly. Her face only had a small scratch on the left cheek. However, her whole face was still in a panic as she looked around franticly. "Heatmor?" she asked.

Charmander shook his head. Torchic looked at him, stunned for a moment. Then she fell to her knees and looked down at the sand, her face a mask of disbelief. Charmander sat down next to her. "It was Gabite," he told her.

She suddenly shot up. "Gabite," she said. "They're only from the Dragon and Ground Nations."

Charmander nodded. "I think the Water Nation made an alliance with one of them," he said.

Torchic nodded. "Yeah."

They both turned towards the battlefield, and Charmander was able to make out someone that sent shivers down his spine. Senator Garchomp of the Ground Nation, unmistakable on the battlefield, taking down five Fire Nation soldiers at once. "Ground," Charmander whispered.

Torchic nodded, then began to step forward. "Come on," she said, walking towards the chaos.

"Where are you going?" Charmander asked.

Torchic turned around, her eyes dark. "Heatmor wanted us at the front lines," she said. "So let's go."

Charmander stood there for a moment, shocked by how dark with anger her face had become. Then he nodded and trotted up to her. The two of them broke into a run, their feet set on the path of the front lines, their minds still remembering Heatmor as he was pulled down to his death.


	7. Chikorita II

**Chikorita**

Chikorita did something that she thought she would never do again; she opened her eyes.

When she did, she saw the powerful beams of the sun through the thick canopy that shielded her from them. No, she realized. It wasn't the thick layering of trees above her that was protecting her from the bright light. It was instead a ceiling made of rock. That was when everything came crashing back to her. The battle, Bayleef, her father. Venusaur. Senator Venusaur was dead, and it was only to save her. But his death hadn't done much. She'd somehow managed to crawl her way to a cave and collapsed without remembering it.

She struggled to stand, but could not overcome the immense pain. She flopped down to the ground, hitting her cheek against the stone floor. She knew it would leave a bruise if she didn't find water soon. Perhaps, she thought, there was some in the back of the cave. Or maybe there was a stream nearby that she could try to drag herself to. Or maybe it was all pointless, and she had somehow dragged herself miles from any Grass Nation city or town, and that it was here in this cave in the middle of nowhere that she would die of her injuries.

It was then that she realized that her injuries felt odd. She turned her head, expecting to see a scabbed-over wound across her side. She was astonished to see not a wound but a white patch. _Bandage_ , she thought. Suddenly, everything came back to her in a swirling vortex of pain. The wounds, gushing blood as she lay dying in the tall grass. The feeling of leaving her body, of no longer being attached to reality. The great rushing that she now knew was the temptation of death, a temptation that cooed to her words of no more pain, of a life away from all the pain.

But those words had been a lie. And now she was here, still in pain, but not as much as before. She had been given a chance to live again, to walk among the living of her own accord. Death had been pushed out of her mind, instead replaced by something else; curiosity. Who had rescued her? She knew they couldn't have been part of the Grass Nation. They could have taken her to a nearby town or city. Surely they knew who she was; Chikorita, youngest daughter of Senator Meganium, the Head of the Grass Nation Council.

But it didn't matter, not now. Whoever had taken her life into their hands had disappeared. Though she had a suspicion that they would be back. Would anyone leave her in the middle of nowhere alone, with nothing but a few bandages? She didn't know. Perhaps someone would. But she had a feeling in her gut that, no, whoever had saved her would return for her. How long would that take though? No; she couldn't focus on that right now. She had to focus on what was important; water.

Chikorita tried to stand again, but still did not have the strength. She tried a few more times, but each time she was able to balance herself, she would take a step, causing her to collapse onto the stone ground. At last, she gave up, instead deciding to drag herself across the cave floor, careful to avoid scraping her wounds against the stone as she did so. She crawled towards the mouth of the cave, squinting her eyes as the sunlight got a bit brighter. At last, she was outside. She looked around, trying to get a feel for where she was.

All that surrounded her was trees, bushes, and other plants. She had no idea where she was, save for the fact that she was within a forest. She didn't even know if she was still within the Grass Nation's borders. To leave the cave and crawl her way through the forest would be suicide. She would have to stay in the cave, and hope that whoever had saved her was coming back for her.

Slowly, she dragged herself back into the cave. As she entered the cave, she realized that, the whole time she'd been awake, there had been a sound coming from the back of the cave. Still slow and still hurting, she dragged herself towards the back of the cave. As she did so, darkness slowly began to envelop her. As she continued onward, she realized just how deep the cave was. Her heartbeat quickened as she wondered whether or not she would be able to reach the source of the sound.

Suddenly, she felt something against her foot. She pulled away from it and stared into the darkness, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the light. At last, she was able to see the small outline of tiny pond. She could still hear the sound, water running within the cave. The pond had been created through some source that was draining into it through a river or a stream somewhere outside of the cave. But where the water was coming from didn't matter to Chikorita; what mattered was that she finally had some.

She began to drink the water, and slowly, strength began to flow through her once again. Water was a good way of getting rid of any internal injuries; the water helped to sooth the blows for all grass types. Water was not, however, a miracle worker. No one could drink water and be healed of their wounds. Though the water would give Chikorita her strength back and heal any bruises she may have garnered from her battle or otherwise, it would not do anything the repair the open wounds that she had.

She could feel life rushing back into her as she drank. She didn't want to stop, but she knew that she had to in order to find out where she was. She couldn't stay in the cave lapping up water forever. When she had had her fill, she stood. Her legs were no longer shaking. They were strong, able to carry her injured body with ease. She walled back towards the mouth of the cave. Light began to come back, and with it came the memories of the battle.

Her father and sister. Both dead. _Dead_ , she suddenly realized. She stopped near the mouth of the cave, her mind racing with grief. They were both dead, both of them taken from her, and from the Nation. Both of them destroyed by the Rock Nation, by Senator Rhyperior. Rhyperior was who she blamed the most, and who she feared the most. She could almost hear the whirring of his drill-like nose as it came closer to her, an omen of her demise.

She couldn't take it anymore. She fell back down to the floor of the cave, not from weakness this time, but from sadness. She cried. She cried for her sister, Bayleef, who had been her best friend, who had always known everything and who never deserved to die in such a brutal fashion. She cried for Meganium, her father, head of the Grass Nation council, who she had thought of as her hero, as someone who could never be defeated or killed by someone as brutish as Rhyperior. She cried for Venusaur, who had sacrificed himself for her, who would never know that his sacrifice had been in vain, because she still wasn't safe.

And, as selfish as she felt it was, she cried for herself. She cried for Chikorita, the daughter without a father, the sister without a sibling, the survivor of the battle who had lost everything. Where would they put her, not that her father and sister were dead? Most likely a member of the Council, probably Torterra, would take her in and raise her to be a hardened warrior. But how would that life be able to replace the one she had with her family that she could no longer see or talk to or touch?

She cried until there were no more tears left. When she was done, she stood up, her legs still strong even after all that agony. She sniffed once, then stared out of the cave. Determination rose in her. She would find her way back home, no matter how long it took. She didn't ask for this life, but she realized that perhaps it was better to live than to suffer the same fate as her family. As she stepped out of the cave, she realized that she _had_ to live. For them.

The sunlight wasn't that strong, though when she looked up, she was surprised to see how high the sun was in the sky. She realized that it had to be the afternoon at this point. When she'd passed out in the battle, it had probably been the mid-morning, definitely only a few hours after sunrise. But now, here was the sun, indicating the afternoon, brightening the world with its light. She shook her head. There was no time to admire the sun right now; she had to find out where she was.

She decided to go to the left, hoping that perhaps this would lead her somewhere inhabited. She began to move through the foliage, pushing past leafy bushes and thorny vines. As she continued onward, the shield of trees above her slowly began to fade, bringing in more sunlight. The sunlight almost blinded her as she continued onward, hoping against all hope that soon, she would stumble across someone else.

At last, she came to a clearing in the forest. Above her, the sun shone directly on the bare circle that she had stumbled into. She decided that now would be the best time to take a break. She curled up, observing the forest all around her. Everything was nothing but thickness and greenery. For all she knew, she was deep in the forest with no way out. Everything was so dense and tight that she'd already lost where she'd come from. Where _did_ she enter this clearing from? There was no indication that she had entered this clearing from anywhere around her at all. It was like the forest had closed around the path she had taken to get where she was.

All of a sudden, she heard a sharp snap behind her. She turned, her eyes wide, her heart almost beating out of her chest. She could almost see it, a Rock Nation soldier, perhaps even Rhyperior himself, stepping out into the clearing, head raised, a triumphant smile spread across his face. And then, with a swift blow, they would end her, and no one would ever know what had happened to the youngest daughter of Senator Meganium. She realized then that it had been a mistake leaving the cave. She had assumed that no one else was out in the forest with her, and she would end up paying the price for it.

Her fears, she felt, were confirmed, though she didn't recognize the Pokémon that walked out from the dense growth of green. It was a strange, dinosaurian type of Pokémon, one with a large, powerful jaw that was practically its entire head. Its bottom jaw was a grayish white, and two small crests on its head were pointed and orange. It had a small, short, and pointy white frill around its neck. It had a short tail with another orange spike on the top of it, close to the tip. Large, powerful looking legs held up its body, with feet that had three white pointed toes on each of them. The oddest thing about this creature was its arms; they were short with two white claws on each of them.

When she met eyes with it, its eyes widened. "Holy shit," it said, and from its voice she knew that it was a boy, perhaps as old as she was. Then, it turned its head and shouted into the forest. "Hey, Krookodile! I found her!"

"Please don't hurt me," Chikorita begged, discovering with a shock just how much strength it took for her to talk.

The Pokémon with the short arms looked back at her. "We're not going to hurt you," he said. "My name's Tyrunt. We're the ones that saved you."

Suddenly, a larger shape burst into the clearing, causing Chikorita to flinch away. This one, whom Tyrunt had referred to as Krookodile, was a bipedal, reptilian-like creature. He had a long, red snout with a black stripe on it. His back, arms, and legs were also red and black-striped. His belly, though, was large and white, along with the front of his neck. He had large claws on his feet and hands, and dark eyes were hidden within a large black stripe that covered his eyes, almost causing them to blend in with his face.

Chikorita backed away, confused. She knew about Krookodile's, and how they were Ground and Dark types. However, when she stared at Tyrunt, so small next to the giant that had just lumbered into the clearing, she couldn't see him as either of those types. Scared, but still able to speak, she brought it up out of shock. "You two… different types…"

Tyrunt nodded. Krookodile stepped forward and kneeled down. Chikorita felt her heart racing as that dark face bent down to hers. But, she could see, within this scary creature's eyes was genuine concern. He held out his clawed hand to her. "We're not gonna hurt'cha," he said calmly. "But it's a lot safer in the cave."

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice shaking as she did so.

"We call ourselves Wardens," Krookodile explained. "I know you must have a lot of questions right now, but it's safer if we go back to the cave."

"Not until you tell me what a Warden is," Chikorita demanded. She could see in Krookodile and Tyrunt's eyes that they meant her no harm. And, even if they did, where else would she go but wander in the forest for all of eternity until she ended up dead?

It was Tyrunt who spoke up. "We're kind of like protectors," he said. "We keep the peace in the world. I guess."

"Oh, yeah, you've been really great at doing your jobs," Chikorita said sarcastically, tears suddenly running down her face. Tyrunt looked hurt by her remark and shocked to see her sad. He began to approach her as she spoke. "The Rock Nation just killed my family a few hours ago. They did this to me. They killed someone who tried to save me, Senator Venusaur. And now… now…"

She couldn't help but break down. Tyrunt came to her and sat down next to her. Krookodile looked down at her in concern while Tyrunt sat next to her, silent. After a few minutes of this, he stood up and turned to face her. "I'm sorry about your family," he said. "But it's a lot more complicated than stopping the wars. Come back to the cave with us. We can rest there."

She looked up at him for a moment, and in his face she could see a sadness almost as deep as hers. _Something like this happened to him_ , she realized. She suddenly felt not only less alone, but like she could trust these two a bit more. She stood up, her legs shaky from grief. She nodded. Krookodile nodded as well then looked down at Tyrunt for a moment before lumbering into the forest. Tyrunt followed him, and Chikorita followed behind him. Her mind was racing. She realized that she had stumbled across something that may have been much bigger than the wars the Nations fought. She shivered at the thought of something worse than war that the world needed protection from. She couldn't even imagine what it could be.


	8. Piplup III

**Piplup**

The Infernape in front of Piplup howled in pain as a large shadow dragged it into the ground. Its screams of pain followed it as it sunk into the ground, causing Piplup to shiver. All around him, chaos had erupted. He could see Fire Nation soldiers trying desperately to get the upper hand, some of them not even aware of the joint army they were fighting. Some of them didn't realize it until it was too late, just like the Infernape, when they were dragged into the ground to be killed by Ground Nation's merciless soldiers.

As Piplup surveyed the battlefield, his vision of it within his mind's eye began to shift. At first, he could see it in the real world, the flash of the battlefield shifting. He was no longer in the Blue Desert, with its sandy ground and kicked-up dust clouds. For a moment, he was back in the Pinprick Peaks, staring at the large flow of soldiers from the Fighting Nation as they descended upon Water Nation soldiers. He could see the blood, slick and wet, coving the rocky battlefield. Pokémon jumped from needle-like structure the needle-like structure, all of them attempting to kill one another.

The vision lasted only a moment, but the memory lasted longer. He could see him, fighting alongside him. Prinplup, smiling as he defended his younger brother from an oncoming Croagunk with the swipe of his large blue flipper. It felt almost like a fantasy world now, where his brother's blue eyes gleamed with pride for the Water Nation, as he launched his body of blue, with his sky blue stomach and face, at the Fighting Nation. As he used the yellow crests on the top of his head to block the attacks that came forth. Prinplup never needed a traditional weapon. He'd created his own, gloves for his flippers made of steel, spiked around them to dig into his enemies. Many soldiers fell that day because of those flippers.

But one soldier fell because they were too proud, too confident, to wear any armor. Piplup could still see the shocked look on his brother's face as the palm went right through his chest. He could still see the determination on the face of his brother's murderer. In his mind's eye, he could see an almost sadistic pleasure in Senator Lucario's face. But that was gone as Lucario heaved his brother up, right in front of him, swung him around once, and sent him flying. Lucario was accurate in his throw, and Piplup knew it just as Prinplup's body began its descent.

The sound of the battle almost drowned out the sick, meaty sound of Prinplup getting impaled. Almost. But Piplup heard it, and he couldn't stop staring in shock at his brother, dying on the spike. The Pinprick Peaks were not called the Pinprick Peaks for nothing. Prinplup coughed up a bit of blood as his body began to, ever so slowly, slide down the needle of rock. His head turned, and Piplup could see pain in his brother's eyes as the life slowly began to fade out of them.

"Piplup!"

The voice of someone unseen called Piplup back to reality. Piplup turned, seeing Froakie ten yards away from him. Froakie was wearing a helmet that, if Piplup was being honest, looked too big for and completely ridiculous on him. But Froakie was indicating at something behind Piplup, danger, right behind.

Piplup turned, and was barely able to dodge the orange shape that came barreling towards him. The shape, something on all fours, stopped, then turned around. Piplup could see this "it" was a "she;" he could tell from her eyes. He could tell by her orange eyes and the snarl she wore on her white snout that she meant to kill him if she had to. She wore no armor save for a silver helmet that fit her head snugly, though kept her large yellow ears with orange tufts of fur in them exposed.

That was where Piplup aimed as he lunged himself at her. She smiled as he charged, then leapt up into the air. Piplup stopped and looked up, watching as she flew above him, blocking his view of the afternoon sun for an instant before turning in the air and landing gracefully on the ground, facing him. She smiled a rueful smile, then prepared herself to charge. "Think it's that easy?" she asked.

Piplup felt his face redden with anger. Quickly, he focused on the power he knew everyone had within them, the power to summon up their element to be used for their own abilities. Piplup blinked, and he was suddenly surrounded with water. He smirked at the she-fox, who smirked right back. Piplup lunged at her, the jet of water surrounding him carrying his body toward her. She leapt up, but she wasn't quick enough.

Piplup leaned back quickly, sending the jet up into the air. The she-fox looked down, surprised. The surprise quickly became pain as Piplup barreled into her. He continued to go up, aiming towards the sun. Higher and higher he went. Thirty feet. Forty feet. Fifty feet. Up and up he went, the she-fox caught within the water jet.

At last, he stopped, his mind tired and no longer in focus. The aqua jet suddenly vaporized. The two of them sat in the air for a moment. Piplup looked over at the she-fox, expecting nothing less than what he saw. He saw a true genuine fear in her eyes, and as they fell, that fear quickly turned to panic. She kept looking at the ground, looking at him, then back to the ground, the realization of doom upon her.

Doom. The realization of doom. Piplup realized with a start that he was falling too. He quickly focused again, surrounding himself in another jet of water. He suddenly stilled in the air as the she-fox continued to plummet to her death. She screamed, begging for help from someone, anyone. Piplup felt a flicker of guilt in his heart, but it was quickly diminished as a flaming shadow swooped downwards. He saw the she-fox land gracefully on the flaming bird's back. _Bitch!_ Piplup thought. Then, with a start, he realized what the shape was; Fire Nation's Senator Moltres.

Piplup waited for the shadow to pass, his heart suddenly racing. There was no chance that he was going to attempt to go up against a Fire Nation Senator, and Moltres no less! He'd heard the stories about the great warrior that Moltres had been when he'd been younger, and he didn't want to find out if those stories still rang true to the present. Slowly, Piplup began his descent to the battlefield. At last, he landed, his feet planted next to Froakie's.

"Oh, thank Arceus you're alright!" Froakie exclaimed.

"Arceus has nothing to do with it," Piplup replied, looking up. He could still see Senator Moltres in the sky. He could see him going back towards the Fire Nation's side of the desert, presumably with that bitch she-fox still on his back. Piplup scowled, mostly at himself. It would have been perfect, his first kill on the battlefield, done without the help of anyone else! He could have stopped the training of a Great Warrior that would have crushed the Water Nation to pieces in the future if Moltres hadn't shown up to save her. What may as well have been a loss sent his blood boiling, and he was fuming.

"I think that was Fennekin," Froakie said. "The Lady Delphox's daughter."

"Yeah, like I care," Piplup replied.

Froakie merely sighed and shook his head. Piplup turned towards him, suddenly furious. The fury stemmed from both Froakie's comment and the fact that he'd lost to that shrimp of a trainee. "What?" Piplup asked. "The hell did I say this time?"

"What?" Froakie asked, clearly confused. "No, Piplup, I didn't mean anything!"

"Of course you did!" Piplup said. He didn't want to yell and Froakie, and there was a large part of his that felt guilt at this action. But he kept yelling. He needed to get his frustrations out, and Froakie was the closest one to him. "You always do! You have since we got here! Telling me that I shouldn't be here, all because of my brother!"

"Piplup, I never said anything like that!"

"Well you meant it!" Piplup gave Froakie an accusing glare. "Is it my fault that he died? I can't help it! He's dead and there's nothing that anyone can do about it! He's dead, and it's because of me! It's all because of me, Froakie, don't you see that! I was the closest one to him, I was standing right in front of him! If I'd seen it coming I could have jumped up and slit Lucario's throat. That bastard'll deserve what he gets the next time I see him, but that won't change a damn thing! Prinplup will be dead, and I'll still be alive, and it'll be my… fault…"

Piplup trailed off, suddenly realizing that he was kneeling on the ground, tears streaming from his eyes. He looked up at Froakie, who was looking down at him in a mixture of shock and shared agony. Piplup looked back at the sandy ground, watching as a slight wind blew particles of sand as swirling dust before stopping, allowing the sand to settle back onto the ground. "It's my fault," Piplup said. It felt good and bad to admit his feelings. Good because they were no longer bottled up inside of him. Bad because now someone knew them.

There was silence for a moment between them. The only sounds came from outside of themselves, as the battle continued to rage in its chaotic way in front of them. Piplup turned his head towards it, suddenly feeling the wind begin to pick up even more. He watched as his father and Garchomp fought side by side, fifty yards away from him. He could make out their figures as they slashed at their enemies. The Fire Nation would never be able to stop his father, and with Senator Garchomp by his side, there would be no stopping their duet of destruction. He wondered how long it would be before Garchomp turned around long enough for Empoleon to slit his throat.

"Piplup I-" Froakie began.

" _Watch out you fools!"_

Piplup turned just as a shadow jumped over him and Froakie. He turned, watching as Sir Slowking landed in front of them. His body weight nearly shook the ground, and Piplup was afraid of the possible impending earthquake that would occur from the landing. Slowking turned around to face them, glaring. "What do you think you're doing?" he snorted. "Talk on the battlefield is weak. Talk within a transport vehicle if you need to!"

Suddenly, the ground underneath Slowking opened up. The pink warrior looked down past his red and white striped frill, his white crown's red jewel glistening in the sunlight as he did so. "The hell?" he muttered. He pulled out his thin, long sword that had been sheathed in a blue belt that he was wearing. The rest of his body was not covered in any armor. Slowking the Lout, he was called, and he paid dearly for it.

A claw reached up and grabbed him by his thick, pink tail. Slowking attempted to ward off his attacker, brandishing his sword, swinging it left and right. He began to let out jets of water from his mouth, but nothing did him any good. More claws appeared, and Piplup and Froakie stood up. They had no time to act, though; in one swift, almost miniscule moment, Slowking was gone. Where he had stood there was only a hole in the ground.

Piplup looked up at his father and Garchomp. They were surrounded by Fire Nation warriors. They were back to back in a circle of soldiers that were charging at them. In a quick and sudden fashion, Garchomp swiveled around, his two claws visible, and cut into Empoleon's skin. Empoleon gasped and turned, clearly taken by surprise. Garchomp began to dig into him again as the Fire Nation soldiers charged into their tussle.

Piplup's heart dropped. The three-way battle had begun, but it hadn't been the Water Nation that had instigated it. Feraligatr's words ran through Piplup's mind. _I never said the plan was a clean one._

It wasn't. Even if it had been, it had been muddied.

Suddenly, holes began to open up the ground underneath dozens of feet. Piplup saw claws and horns and mouths agape grabbing hold of the surprised Water Nation soldiers as they were pulled down, at the mercy at their merciless killers. Piplup turned back to the tussle, and realized with a panic that he wasn't going to be able to do anything to save his father, or anyone else, for that matter. Everyone was on their own.

"Here!" Froakie shouted. Piplup turned to see that Froakie was running for a transport vehicle. "They can't dig through steel!"

Suddenly, a hand shot up out of the ground in front of Froakie. Froakie backed up, fearful. Piplup ran towards him just as a Gabite began to crawl out of the hole. It was barely out when Piplup felt the fury rise up in him. The fury of his brother's death, the fury of Fennekin's escape, even the fury of having yelled at Froakie, who was doing nothing but trying to help him, seized him in its grasp. He fought, and he channeled it. He felt water surround him, and he blasted himself at the Gabite.

The Gabite lunged for Froakie just as Piplup jetted into him. He heard a sharp snap as all of his body weight hit the Gabite in the neck. The soldier of the Ground Nation went limp. Piplup allowed the water to leave him, and he landed on the ground, standing on his feet. He started to shake a bit, his heart racing, as he saw the Gabite. Its neck had been broken, and was twisted at an odd angle. Piplup didn't know what to think. All he could think, in shock, was _I did that._

"Come on!" Froakie shouted. Piplup snapped back to reality. He looked over at Froakie, who was still charging at the transport vehicle. Piplup glanced back at the battlefield once more. It was in shambles, everything, everyone. Chaos was the real winner of this battle. Blood flew and death came with it. Piplup turned back towards the vehicle and, with his mind still on his father and Garchomp, followed Froakie inside.


	9. Charmander IV

**Charmander**

The front lines of the battle were not as hectic as an outside glance made them out to be; they were even worse.

The first thing Charmander and Torchic stumbled across as they made their way into the fray was an Infernape's severed head. Its eyes, glazed over with both fear and death, stared at the sky in an eternal unseeing. The sight of the head had caused Torchic to collapse to the ground in shock, but Charmander was able to hold her up. Seeing the head, though, he wanted to get sick. Such was the way of the war.

In the midst of the chaos, they came across Blaziken. The Senator had swung his orange and yellow leg upwards, smacking it against the lower jaw of an oncoming Blastoise. Dazed, the Blastoise took a step back, and in that moment, its fate was sealed. A smile crossed Blaziken's beaklike mouth, and he slashed out with his brown claw. The Blastoise's neck opened up, and blood ran from it like a faucet. The Blastoise fell as Blaziken, who's only armor was a golden breastplate, turned towards Charmander and his daughter.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" he shouted over the roar of the battle. "The front lines are no place for you two, especially since you're- look out!"

Charmander turned, readying himself as a Gabite launched itself out of the ground at him. Charmander swerved to the right to avoid its gaping, sharp jaws. It snapped at thin air, then turned, growling at him. Charmander faced it, his eyes not giving away anything that occurred behind it. Suddenly, there was a slashing sound. The Gabite's face took on the looks of realization and horror all at once. It fell, blood draining from the back of its neck. Torchic stood behind it, shaking a bit, but a fierce blaze in her eyes nonetheless.

The two of them turned their attention back to Blaziken. He was glaring at them sharply, though Charmander knew that he would be praising Torchic after the battle for having slayed the Ground Nation soldier. "Who told you to come up here?" he demanded.

"Heatmor," Torchic explained. "He wanted us to accompany him to the front lines."

"Well tell that brain-dead fool to stop putting novices in danger!"

"We can't," Charmander said. "He's dead."

"What?" Blaziken's eyes widened in shock as he absent-mindedly broke a Swampert's jaw with a kick of his leg.

"We were surrounded," Torchic said. "Gabite's, everywhere. He saved us, dad. He sacrificed himself for us."

Blaziken was silent for a moment. The world seemed to stop in those short few seconds that truly felt like eons. Charmander could easily observe the destruction of the battlefield. He could see Senator Garchomp within, fighting side by side with Senator Empoleon, the two of them helping each other as they continued to break further through the front lines. Ground and Water Nation, converging on the Fire Nation, a Nation not as strong as Ground and certainly not strong against the two enemies' combined forces. Ground Nation alone had some of the most fearsome soldiers, but to combine them with Water…

At last, Blaziken spoke. "He's given you a second chance a life," he said. Suddenly, a Gabite flew at him. He was able to knock it into the sand with a swift kick. There was a sharp snap, and Charmander knew that the kick had snapped the soldier's neck. Blaziken's eyes bore into Charmander and Torchic. "I suggest you take it."

Charmander looked over at Torchic, who was already looking at him. She nodded, and he nodded back. Charmander looked back up at Blaziken, meaning to ask him about his father. But Blaziken had already jumped back into the fray, clawing and kicking at soldiers with little armor on and whose weapons were only themselves. For a brief instant, Charmander wondered why some soldiers preferred to fight with swords while others were content with using themselves as weapons. But that didn't matter now, and it was stupid to think of something so trivial when there were more important things to deal with.

He turned towards Torchic as he began to run back towards the safety of the back lines. Then, he stopped. Torchic did too, looking at him quizzically. When she turned around, she saw what he saw. Her face lit up in horror. Charmander didn't know what to think. Was this the beginning of their greatest win? Or the start of their worst defeat?

Garchomp had begun to attack Empoleon. Water Nation troops were suddenly clawed at and pulled underground by the Ground Nation. Charmander saw Arcanine in the fray, his clouded eye visible and unblinking. He was surrounded by Ground Nation Gabite's, all of them scratching at the brave warrior as he continued to pull them off of him and grind them into the dirt. Charmander smiled, though his heart was still beating fast. He didn't want to see another Great Warrior lose their lives today.

"Look out!"

Upon hearing Torchic's voice, he swung his head around, only to have it instantly knocked back into the sand. The Gabite had come out of nowhere, flying at him like a torpedo. Now it stood, glaring over him. It seemed to have taken no notice of Torchic, who stood, shaking slightly, behind him. Charmander looked up at his attacker, the two of them locking eyes. The Gabite bent down quickly, meaning to bite Charmander's head off in a single chomp. But Charmander was ready.

A rippling jet of flame spewed from his mouth into the Gabite's. The inside of the Gabite's mouth caught, and it backed away, screaming and flailing, it's mouth ablaze. Charmander jumped up, seeing nothing but red and feeling nothing but determination run through his body. His heart was pumping fast, but his breathing remained steady as he ran up to the Gabite. He jumped into the air, his body flying freely through the sky for a moment. Then his teeth met flesh, and he yanked his head back.

A chunk of the Gabite's flesh left it, then left Charmander's mouth. Charmander landed on the ground, his teeth and lips bloodied, his mouth tasting like salt. The Gabite's mouth was still ablaze, but now it panicked silently. It stared at Charmander for a moment, and in its eyes was a mask of pleading. It didn't want help from him, though; it knew it was dead, and wanted Death to embrace it as quickly as possible.

Charmander watched, almost transfixed, as the Gabite's body slowly crumpled to the ground. It lay still, its head now ablaze, blood still running from its neck, a look of misery on what remained of its face. Charmander breathed in. "I killed him," he said.

"Oh, no," Torchic murmured.

Charmander looked over at her. She was looking past him, to the horizon. He looked in the direction she was. There was a line of organized chaos stretching down the desert. Now it was a three way battle; Fire against Water against Ground, all three of them clashing. But that wasn't what Torchic was worried about.

Beyond them all, coming from the left of the Fire Nation's forces, was a huge cloud made of sand. Charmander could hear the howl of the wind as the sand drew ever closer. It was quick, and he knew that, in just a matter of minutes, the entire battlefield would be blinded by the current of sand. He knew there was no time to escape to one of the transport vehicles; there was no time. They would have to brave the coming storm.


	10. Piplup IV

**Piplup**

The sound of the chaos outside could still be heard through the walls of the transport vehicle. Piplup grimaced as he heard someone get pushed into the vehicle. It rocked a bit to the side as someone else pinned whoever it was to the vehicle. "No, please!" an unfamiliar voice begged. Whoever had them captive said nothing. There was a slicing sound, then a quiet gurgling. Piplup could imagine the figure, perhaps an Infernape, perhaps a Swampert, crumpling to the ground as the last of its life bled from its neck.

Froakie was sitting on the bench across from Piplup, staring at the drivers and passenger's seats at the front of the vehicle. Piplup looked up as well. Outside, the world was slowly getting darker. _Sandstorm_ Piplup thought as he looked back down at his feet. Everything had blown up in their faces. The plan to kill Garchomp was still nothing more than that. He doubted anyone would be able to do it, not after this. And certainly not with a sandstorm now pushing in to blind every fighter on the field.

Piplup sighed and sat back, his mind going back to his father. They'd both been surrounded, but who would the Fire Nation kill? Probably both of them, or at least try to. Piplup doubted that today would be the day Garchomp fell. He'd already taken out more Fire Nation soldiers than any other Water or Ground Nation fighter had yet, and he was bound to take down more before he fell. If he fell.

Froakie turned his head towards Piplup, looking concerned. "I'm sorry," he said. "About Empoleon. And about… about saying stuff about… um…" Froakie looked at him, clearly unsure of whether or not to continue.

"It's fine," Piplup said, though even the indirect mention of his brother's demise caused a thorn to prick his heart. His fault, all his fault. It had been scratching at the back of his brain for a while now, but to say it out loud made it a truly awful yet possible possibility. _Prinplup. Dead. My fault._ Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't. But he had a feeling that he would continue to blame himself until the day he died.

He looked over at the front window of the vehicle. Sand had covered their entire view of the battlefield, making it seem as though the vehicle had been buried beneath the desert. He couldn't stop thinking about Empoleon. His father was stupid, but he was tough. He would make it out alive from this. _I hope_ , he thought.

Suddenly, there was a loud bump from beneath Froakie and his feet. He snapped up and looked down at the floor below. Froakie had too. There was no sound for a few seconds. Froakie and Piplup looked up at each other. Fraokie's face was fraught with worry, and Piplup knew that his face was as well. Then, there was another sound, this time two bumps in rapid succession. _Bumpbump!_

Piplup's head snapped back down, and he stared at the floor. He didn't look up from it as bumping sounds continued. Sometimes they would become rapid, and other times they were only single thumps followed by a few seconds of silence, followed by yet another thump. As the sounds continued, he tensed himself. There was one thing his father had taught him that seemed useful for almost any situation. The power that was inside of any Pokémon could be used to generate all sorts of moves. And there was one that his father had tried to teach him and Prinplup a few weeks before Prinplup's death. While Prinplup could never get the hang of it, Piplup had mastered the move with ease.

"Well done!" his father had said, clapping his flippers together and smiling with pride. "Normally, only Empoleon's know how to channel their energy just right so that they can do that. Bravo, son!"

He hoped his father's praise had been truthful. He hoped he had done it correctly. Because now his life and Froakie's life depended on that one single strike.

Piplup felt his flipper harden. Froakie looked up at him, staring wide-eyed. "How did you learn how to do that?" he asked.

"My father," Piplup said. He could feel his flipper tightening, tighter and tighter. But it didn't hurt; it felt more as though it was becoming something outside of himself, nothing more than a weapon he would use to cut down whatever came into the vehicle.

The bumps were getting even more rapid. He could see the metal of the transport vehicle's floor start to bend. A lump was slowly forming as whatever was underneath the vehicle began to break through. _Bumpbumpbump, bumpbumpbump,_ continuing on and on and on until-!

Metal flew just as the Gabite jumped out from the hole in the vehicle. Piplup sliced, his flipper now a silvery-gray. The Gabite was clearly shocked at what had been waiting for him, as his eyes widened just before Piplup sliced open his throat. The Gabite didn't make a sound as it held its throat using its arm. It began to stumble, almost dance around. Piplup didn't know why, but he found it almost amusing, like a puppet on strings. At last, the Gabite fell, hitting his head against the floor. His body continued to leak crimson as it lay there. Piplup turned away from it, not wanting to watch as the rest of his blood leaked out. More would be coming, anyway.

Just as the first one died, two more sprung up out of the hole. Piplup sliced one's throat open, but was unable to do anything to the other one. The other one had cornered Froakie, and was raising his arm to slice him open. Before Piplup could do anything though, Froakie became a blue and white blur. Piplup didn't even see his foot jut out and smack the Gabite in the bottom jaw, but he knew that was what must have happened. The Gabite backed away, making indistinguishable sounds as it moved its jaw around. The pain in its eyes didn't stop Piplup from using his flipper like a sword. He stuck the Gabite in the back of the neck with his now point-ended flipper. He pulled it out, allowing the dying soldier to fall to the ground.

Piplup looked back at the hole. Silence. But he knew that more would be coming out of there soon.

Piplup turned back to Froakie, whose eyes shone with seriousness. But Piplup could tell by the way he was shaking that he had been terrified throughout the entire ordeal. "It could be worse," Piplup said. "We could be out there."

Froakie nodded, looking out at the window. "We're going to need to stay close to those doors," he said, nodding at the doors at the end of the vehicle from whence they came in. "If this vehicle gets overrun, we're going to have to go out there anyway."

"When," Piplup said.

"Huh?"

" _When_ this vehicle gets overrun," Piplup elaborated, nodding towards the hole in the floor. "There's no chance in hell that we're going to be staying in here for the entirety of the battle."

As though his words were the deliverance of an omen, another Gabite rose from the hole. This one did not jump out, but had rather pulled himself through the hole, and seemed to be struggling to do so. Piplup walked over to it, his flipper ready. The Gabtie stared up at him when he approached, then smiled. "You," he said, his voice giving away that he was exhausted from his climb. "You're Empoleon's son."

Piplup said nothing, merely stared at the Gabite with dark eyes.

The Gabite laughed. "He's dead, you know," the Gabite said. "I saw it happen with my own eyes. Garchomp tore that poor bastard apart. When your surviving soldiers come back to take away the bodies, they won't even know it's him!"

Piplup knew that the Gabite was just trying to get a rise out of him, but that still didn't change what he did. With a quick swipe, he let blood flow from the soldier's neck. He didn't look shocked, and seemed to have accepted his fate long before he climbed up the hole. He still tried to uselessly plug his neck. As he fell, a smile was still stretched across his face.

Piplup stared down at the hole for a few seconds more. Froakie came up to his side to join him. "Arceus willing, we're gonna be okay," he said reluctantly.

"Arceus has nothing to do with this," Piplup said. Then, as though hearing someone else talk; "If anything, we're in a world ruled by Darkrai."

Froakie jumped back, staring at Piplup, and shock in his eyes. "How could you say something like that?" he asked.

Piplup shrugged, still staring down at the hole. "After everything I've seen before and everything I've seen today, I don't know how bad things will get tomorrow. But if tomorrow is just as good as today, then either there is no Arceus, or he's one sick son of a bitch."

Before Froakie could respond, there was a low rumbling sound that trumpeted beneath them. Piplup looked down at the hole, trying to see if anyone was about to climb up. No one was. The transport vehicle began to shake. Then, he could feel it; something was trying to pull the tank underground. And it was succeeding.

"Quick!" Piplup shouted. He flung open the doors of the transport vehicle just a millisecond before those too began to sink into the ground. He jumped out, rolling on the ground as it did so. He looked back at the tank, watching as Froakie leapt out and landed next to him gracefully.

"Hippowdon," was all Froakie said as the two of them watched the transport vehicle slowly sink into the ground. Piplup quickly got up, planning to run away from where they were, to get away from the Hippowdon that seemed to be pulling their vehicle under. But when he turned, sand struck him in the eyes. He grimaced and rubbed them. He put a flipper up above his eyes, trying to see if there was anyone near them

He could see shadows in the distance, and could hear the sounds of battle on the wind. But the sounds were faint, and the wind was buffeting. He turned towards Froakie, who had walked only ten feet away from him. Even when he was so close he still looked like nothing but an outline in the sand. "Froakie!" he shouted.

Froakie didn't seem to hear. Piplup began to walk towards him, struggling minutely against the wind. At last, he caught up to him, and touched him on the arm. Froakie gasped, pulling away. Then he calmed. "Oh," he shouted. His voice sounded far away. "It's you! I was looking for you!"

"I was right behind you!" Piplup shouted.

"What?" Froakie asked.

Piplup raised his flipper, a symbol of silence. Froakie obeyed. The two of them stared out in to the battlefield. Or at least, tried to stare. The only thing Piplup could think was; _where do we go now?_

They decided to just walk straight.


	11. Charmander V

**Charmander**

"Torchic!"

Sand had made seeing hard. While he and Torchic had started to trot to the back lines, they had been attacked by a group of Gabite. At that point, the sandstorm had already encased the battlefield in its blinding grasp. As he and Torchic fought the Gabite off, his vision became worse and worse. The Gabite, meanwhile, seemed almost used to the conditions of the storm. They had beaten the two of them roughly, but they had managed to get the upper hand. Torchic had disappeared into the sandstorm while Charmander began to run from the Gabite. Then, in a quick flash, Torchic had leapt out of the storm, her claws gleaming ever so slightly in the small amount of the sunlight the storm allowed to be visible. She'd cut the back of two of their heads open in one quick movement. The other one, taken by surprise, didn't even see Charmander coming. Charmander had run while curling himself into a ball, then breathed fire. His body caught, and he rolled forward, barreling into the Gabite's chest. It screamed as its stomach began to burn, and that was how they had left him.

But now Charmander was alone. Torchic had walked too fast for him to keep up, clearly wanting to get away from the battlefield as fast as she could. Now Charmander was wandering around, going in different directions, shouting for her. But his voice sounded faint in his ears, and he knew even as he continued to shout for her that she wouldn't be able to hear him. And if she hadn't noticed that he'd gotten lost, where was she now? Was she still moving in the same direction she had been previously? Where was he? He'd changed course so many times he had no idea.

But then, he saw it. A small shape in the distance. He could make out a beak similar to Torchic's in the shadows of the sand. He began to walk towards it, the wind only buffeting him slightly. As he continued, he realized that the shape was walking towards him as well. For an instant, he was happy. He didn't want to be left alone without Torchic, not in this storm.

Then, with dawning horror, he came to the realization that this wasn't Torchic. This figure was not as skinny as she was. Charmander also saw another figure beside the birdlike one. This one was crawling on all fours, and had the lanky look that made it seem like a walking corpse within the shadows. Charmander began to back away, but the figures were still gaining. He knew that there was no escape. He would have to accept it, to fight them off. He'd just taken out a Gabite; how hard could a few novices from another Nation be?

But apparently, the shadows were just as horrified as he was. They stepped out, staring at him cautiously. Charmander readied himself for battle, but the other two continued to approach. The larger one, the one with flippers instead of arms, put them up. "Ground Nation's turned against us," he said. "Do we really want a three-way battle to keep up?"

Charmander eyed them cautiously. What the hell were they planning on doing? The larger one stuck out his flipper. "Piplup," he said. "That's Froakie. We're just looking for my father, that's all. We'll be about our way now."

Charmander nodded, but as soon as he did, a shape from the air flew down and began to scratch at Froakie. Froakie screamed, and Piplup turned towards him. Charmander could see her, Torchic, clawing at Froakie's face, never stopping, never ending. Piplup turned back towards Charmander. "It could have gone another way," he said. That was when Charmander noticed that Piplup's left flipper was silver.

Piplup slashed at him, but Charmander managed to dodge it. "Torchic!" he shouted as Piplup tried to come after him. "Torchic stop!"

But his voice was too faint to be heard. Torchic continued to claw at Froakie. Froakie had put up his arms defensively, but they were getting scratched up. They were bleeding, but Torchic continued her onslaught of strikes. As Charmander continued towards her, he could see it, prevalent in her eyes. Anger and fear. He could also see that she was shaking. She hadn't planned this; she'd just seen them near him and had jumped into action completely out of the blue, even to herself, it seemed.

"Torchic! Stop! They're not gonna hurt us!"

Torchic looked at him reluctantly, but stopped nonetheless. Charmander turned around. Piplup was stalking towards him, his arm still metallic. Rage was in his eyes, rage that didn't seem to be completely directed towards Charmander and Torchic. Some kind of rage directed towards something that had happened prior to this moment, perhaps recently or perhaps long ago.

"She didn't know," Charmander explained. "She saw us, and she thought you were gonna attack us. We don't want any trouble, we just want to go home. That's it! We'll help you look for your father, if that's what it takes!"

But that didn't stop Piplup. Charmander crouched, readying himself to dodge whatever attack came. But what came next he wasn't expecting. Piplup jumped into the air above Charmander. For a moment, water surrounded him, and he jetted out for just a second. Then he landed, and his flipper pierced the neck of a Gabite that had been sneaking up on Charmander. Charmander turned, shocked enough for a small gasp to come out of his mouth. Piplup held his flipper in its neck as it crumped to the ground. Then, standing on its corpse, Piplup pulled his flipper out. Blood flowed down from its neck.

Piplup turned towards Charmander. "There," he spat. "You can trust me. Now, show me I can trust you. Help us search for me father."

Charmander looked down at Torchic, who was eyeing Piplup suspiciously. "Why should we help you?" she asked.

"Ground Nation's fighting against both of us," he said. "They ambushed Water Nation. I saw Senator Garchomp attack my father."

"So did we," Charmander said. Piplup's eyes widened, and a spark of hope dwindled in them. "We don't know if he lived though. We just saw Fire Nation soldiers surround him." Piplup's gaze dropped disappointedly.

"Well," he continued, "let's make a deal. You help us find my father, you can go. Or, we can kill you where you stand. Right, Froakie?"

Charmander looked back at Torchic. She had turned toward Froakie, who had stood. He was rubbing his arms, which were cut up and bleeding. "Right," Froakie said reluctantly. Charmander had a feeling that, if anyone were to kill them for disagreeing, it would be Piplup and Piplup alone.

"Glad we're in agreement," Piplup said, though his face was hard as a stone. He walked over to Charmander. "Let's try this again," he said, sticking his flipper out. Charmander noticed that the metal on it had faded away, and it was normal once more. "I'm Piplup, that's Froakie."

Charmander stared at Piplup's flipper for what felt like a long time, but was truly only seconds. It was either shake or risk death, and Charmander didn't feel like dying today. More importantly, though, Torchic was shook enough already by the battle. There was no need to add to that with the risk of death. Charmander stuck out his own claw, and shook Piplup's flipper, reluctantly yet firm.

When they released Piplup nodded. "Alright," he said, turning his back on Charmander. "Let's go."

"Go where?" Torchic asked. "I can barely see ten feet in front of me, how the hell are we going to find Empoleon?"

Piplup turned back to her. "We will find him," he said sternly. "We have to. Come on, let's go this way."

Piplup turned left and began to walk. Charmander followed, as did Torchic and Froakie. He caught up to Piplup, and realized that the wind was beginning to die down. He walked next to Piplup for a few seconds before deciding to speak. They may as well get to know their enemies if they were stuck with them for the next few hours. "Why did Water Nation ally with Ground in the first place?" he asked.

"Stupidity and revenge," Piplup said. "Garchomp's the best warrior there is. I doubt even you can deny that. I even said so myself, right in front of everyone; this was the dumbest, shittiest idea anyone had ever had. Ally with the Ground Nation, apparently so _we_ could turn against _them_ by killing Garchomp. Weaken them by killing the best warrior any Nation's ever had. I had a little 'talk' with Senator Feraligatr about my doubts, and he even admitted that the pan had holes in it. Stupid bastard's probably dead by now."

Piplup looked sidelong at Charmander. "I shouldn't be telling you this, you know," he said. "It's pretty much a betrayal of whatever secrecy the Water Nation has, whatever mysteries they keep hidden from the rest of the Nations. If I weren't a Senator's son, they'd probably kill me for treason and kill you for knowing. Lucky for you, I don't really give a shit anymore."

Charmander nodded. "I can see why. It-"

"Hold on!" Piplup shouted. Charmander turned around. Torchic and Froakie were only a few feet away, and they stopped. With the wind slowly beginning to die down, the storm was coming to a close. Now sound was able to travel normally instead of being nothing but muffled nothingness unless you were close to someone's ear. They stopped, a quizzical look on Torchic's face.

Charmander turned around to see that Piplup was facing them. "I want all of you to make a line," he said. "Across, on either side of me. And face the way I'm facing. Go!"

They scrambled and did so. Froakie got on Piplup's left side, while Charmander stood on his right side, with Torchic standing next to him. They stared out into the sandy desert, Charmander unsure of what they were supposed to be seeing. Torchic leaned in, close enough that he could feel her breath on his face. "Does it ever end?" she asked.

Charmander shook his head. No, it seemed. No, it never ended.

They stayed that way for a few seconds before Charmander noticed it. A shadow was walking towards them, one that had the distinct features of a Gabite. Charmander tensed, readying to jump up and latch his teeth onto its throat. Everyone else had tensed as well. Piplup continued to stare at the approaching shadow as he spoke. "I'll go for the throat," he explained. "Froakie, go try and slip behind it. If it sees you, we'll know. You'll be fine. Charmander, Torchic, you're backup in case we fail."

Charmander nodded, then turned toward Torchic. She nodded at him as well, but he could see fear in her eyes, and he knew that soon, she would start to shake again. Charmander turned back to the shadow. "Got it," he said.

Froakie slipped into the sandstorm, nothing more but a shadow on the wind. Charmander could feel his heart pumping faster as he continued to stare at the shadow. It was gaining. Then, without warning, Piplup darted forward. Charmander felt the instinct to do so as well, but instead, he remained where he was. There was the sound of flesh being sliced, followed by a sickening gurgle. He watched as the two smaller shadows detached from the larger one, which fell to the ground.

Charmander could hear Froakie's voice on the wind, something about "first kill," and blubbering.

He saw Piplup put a hand on his friend's shoulder, and heard something about him doing fine, and something else about Froakie's father. At last, the two of them returned. Froakie had droplets of blood peppered on his face, while Piplup's body was streaked in it. "It's not ours," he explained. "Come on, let's go."

Charmander looked at Torchic, who seemed relieved that she didn't have to do any killing then. Charmander was also relieved, though he knew that, before they found Empoleon, they would have to kill again.

But he was wrong. The sandstorm slowly began to lift, and the battlefield was viewable once again. Thirty minutes after Piplup and Froakie had taken out the Gabite, the battlefield was visible again. It was not a pretty sight. Fire, Water, and Ground were still fighting, though this time, there were small skirmishes everywhere across the desert. Charmander searched for any sign of his father or Blaziken, but could find none.

Piplup had better luck than him. Piplup pointed with his flipper. "Over there!" he shouted. He broke into a trot, and Froakie followed, almost magnetized to his friend. Charmander and Torchic followed as well, but they glanced at each other, both of them reading each other's eyes. If they wanted to, they could kill Piplup and Froakie while they were running. But Charmander saw reluctance in Torchic's eyes. "We won't," he promised. The reluctance faded.

The mound that was crumpled on the ground made Charmander fearful of who had done it to him. _Garchomp_ , he thought. He could easily see why he was hailed as the best warrior of any of the Nations, and why he was feared by many. Empoleon's body was covered in scrapes and bruises. He was lucky to be alive, and it was probably only because they were surrounded by the distracting regiment of Fire Nation soldiers that lay dead in a circle around him that he lived. His worst wound was one on his flipper. Blood was still coming out of it, causing Empoleon's face to become much lighter than it once was.

"Son?" Empoleon said drowsily, lifting his head. He looked down at his feet. "Feet, broken," he explained choppily. "Move them, can't. Stomach, hurts."

That was when Charmander noticed the large slice that had been traced across Empoleon's belly. It too was bleeding, and it looked deep. Piplup leaned into his father, his tears showing, his eyes filled with grief and rage. "You can't die," Piplup said. "We'll save you, we promise."

Empoleon looked up, his eyes meeting Charmander's. Charmander felt his face become hot. He suddenly felt awkward and embarrassed for being where he was. "Fire Nation?" Empoleon asked. Then he passed out.

"Dad!" Piplup screamed. He turned towards the others, all of them looking at him in shock and sorrow. "Well, don't just stand there!" he yelled. "Get him to a transport vehicle!"

They nodded. Charmander suddenly had an idea. "Torchic," he said. "I need you to go get Flareon."

"No!" Piplup shouted. "We're not going to be indebted with the Fire Nation!"

"Flareon's had over fourty years of medical experience," Charmander said. "He's here, he has to be, but he doesn't like it. He hates the war, and if he had it his way, we would all hold hands and sing songs. He's the best chance we have of your father making it." Everything Charmander had said was true.

But Piplup shook his head. "No way," he said. "Froakie, go find Simipour."

"I don't know," Froakie said. "She only has a few months' experience. We've never had something this bad before in the time she's been a medic."

"Fine!" Piplup shouted. "Go get your medic!"

Torchic nodded, then hurriedly ran off to find Flareon. Charmander hoped that the medic would be kind enough to help. He turned back to see Piplup was glaring at him. Charmander hurriedly picked up Empoleon. He was heavy, and he knew there was no way they were going to get him to an empty transport vehicle without him falling eventually. But they would have to try.

"There's one just up ahead," Piplup said. "About fifty yards. We can make it."

They walked to the doors without conflict. But Charmander's mind was in turmoil. Where was Torchic? She wouldn't be back by now, sure, but he was still worried for her safety. As they lowered Empoleon at the back of the transport vehicle, he looked up at them. "I'll go find Torchic," he said.

"I'll go," Froakie offered. Charmander looked at him, suspicion still crawling in his brain. "Trust, I get it," Froakie continued. "But if the two of you stay here, then there's no chance of us moving and you'll be able to find us. Trust."

Piplup looked at Froakie as though he'd gone crazy. Before either of them could protest, Froakie had run off into the chaos of the battle that stretched out behind them. Piplup opened the doors of the transport vehicle, then glared at Charmander for a moment. "Help me with him," he ordered.

Charmander did, all the while thinking about Torchic, hoping she would come back safe.


	12. Torchic I

**Torchic**

 _Flareon, Flareon, Flareon._

The name of the Fire Nation medic who had accompanied the troops at the front to their position rang in Torchic's mind. Each time she thought of his name, it got louder, until she was screaming it within. _FLAREON! FLAREON! FLAREON!_

She hoped she would find him soon. Otherwise, she thought her legs may give out below her, sending her sprawling into the sandy ground. They were shaking so much, much more than she had anticipated them to when she first stepped onto the battlefield. She wanted to be here at first, when she was in the comfort of the city. Even when she was anticipating the battle within the transport vehicle, she had wanted to stand and fight. To launch herself out of the vehicle towards the nearest enemy troop and slice through flesh. She thought it would be fun. Fun. Was that the right word? She didn't know. Flareon's name was still pounding in her head.

But when the transport vehicle blew open, when the Infernape that had been talking on the radio had been reduced to nothing more than ash and dust, along with whatever specks of blood and flesh weren't burned up in the inferno, her heart had started to race. It had been hours now, and it still hadn't stopped. She _wanted_ to be here. She _wanted_ to fight for the Fire Nation. But she felt so unexplainably nervous about it. When she'd made her first kill, she had shook, and had looked at the dead Gabite, thinking to herself, _I did that. It was me_. She had felt a brief rush of energy at the realization. But she didn't like that energy, nor that hunger for more of the dead.

And now, being in the vast plane of the battle, watching as the chaos unfolded across the desert, and feeling as she walked ever closer towards the skirmishing troops, her heart was beating faster than ever. Why hadn't Charmander gone with her? She knew why; he didn't want either of them to die, didn't want them to be killed by Piplup and Froakie in the case that they did let them go, only to ambush them a moment later. But still, wouldn't he have at least _attempted_ to go with her.

 _No, stop it_ , she thought to herself as the fighting soldiers grew ever closer. _Stop not making sense. Make sense. Focus. Flareon._

She was heading right for the center of the battle. Before the sandstorm, it had been as though the desert was split in half, a long line of soldiers from both Fire Nation and the joint Water-Ground Nation alliance making a border between the two halves. But now that the sandstorm had buffeted most everyone (save for the Ground Nation; sandstorms, she had learned from her father, were common in their land), everything was messy and spread out. But it was obvious, just from looking at the split-apart battlefield, that there was still a coherent battle going on.

And Fire Nation was losing that battle.

As she got closer to the spread-out skirmishes, she could see Ground and Fire, locked in combat with one another. She watched as a Gabite tore open the throat of a young Simisear, who looked down in dismay as his body fell to the ground. She saw a Hippowdon slowly rising from the ground, it's large, black, hippo-like body getting bigger as it revealed itself, its red eyes glowing in the sunlight, glaring at the five soon to be dead Fire Nation troops that had come over to surround it. Torchic hoped that they would make it out alive, though she highly doubted that they would.

The worst part of all of this, though, was the Water Nation. She could see them running, but not towards the battle. Water Nation troops were sprinting towards their transport vehicles, rushing as fast as they could. Some took off their armor and threw it into the sand in order for them to move faster and hopefully avoid any more conflict with either opposing side. It did not work for all of them, though. She watched as countless unidentifiable Water Nation soldiers suddenly sunk into the ground, a hole forming where they once were, screams rising up through the air. Torchic shivered the first time she saw it happen, and her nervousness grew as she watched it grow in frequency.

She was approaching the heart of the skirmishes now, still with no sign of Flareon. _Arceus, dammit! Where is he?_

But it didn't matter, not when she heard the horn sound off. Not once, not twice, but three times. Torchic's eyes widened.

At times in a battle between two Nations, a Senator or Great Warrior from one Nation may challenge another Senator or Great Warrior from another Nation. This is normally instigated through a starting battle between the two, but normally escalates to a formal (if it could even be called that) Warrior Battle between them. This allows all distractions to stop as all members from each Nation must get into a combined circle and watch as the Warrior Battle unfolds. The Warrior Battle can be between any number of Senators or Great Warriors from each Nation. It is a fight to the death, and normally, only one is left standing by the end. When the battle is over, chaos erupts. Such is the way of the war.

All of this went through Torchic's mind in only a moment. She had listened to the trumpet. First, there had been one long blast, indicating that there would be one member from one Nation fighting. Then, there had been two shorter yet still fairly lengthy blasts that indicated that two members from an opposing Nation would be fighting as well. Torchic knew before she even squeezed herself to the front of the circle that was forming who the one long blast was.

Her suspicions were confirmed when the circle formed. The circle didn't take very long to form, as everyone wanted to crowd around. She managed to squeeze herself through a few of the soldiers, who barely gave her a second glance. When she was finally able to see the makeshift fighting ring that had been formed, her eyes widened and her heart started to thump wildly. It was as though she had a Butterfree in there.

Her eyes darted to Senator Garchomp. The Senator was smiling and glaring at his opponents. "Really?" he said. "You _really_ want to die today?"

Torchic glanced over at who had decided to challenge one of the greatest warriors of any Nation. When she saw who it was, she nearly fainted. There, standing ready and willing to fight until they both dropped dead, was Senator Charizard and her father. Blaziken had fire in his eyes, and he looked like, if he wanted to, he would be able to beat Garchomp to the ground without the help of Charizard. _But he can't_ , Torchic thought. _He can't and he knows it. Arceus, please tell me this isn't happening!_

"That's funny," Blaziken responded to Garchomp's remark with a small smirk on his face. "We already dug your grave."

Garchomp's smile grew wider. "Well then," he said, "I hope you like the dirt."

In a flash, Garchomp had jumped up into the air, spreading his arms outward. The large fins on his arms made Torchic think that, if he wanted to, he could fly. He began to come down to the ground, his head facing downwards, his arms at his side as though he were a torpedo. Blaziken and Charizard readied themselves for the impact. Torchic closed her eyes and turned away.

There was a loud crash, and she turned back to see what kind of damage Garchomp had done. She was shocked to see him lying dazed on the ground. Blaziken was over him, his foot on his chest, smiling. Charizard was at his side, seemingly ready to cut open the Ground Nation Senator that was pinned to the ground.

Garchomp looked up suddenly, and smiled. "You think that's going to stop me?"

He launched himself upwards. Blaziken, surprised, stumbled backwards. Torchic's heart dropped. Garchomp turned his attention to Charizard, jumping out of the way quickly as Charizard's wings unfolded, and he breathed fire at where Garchomp had been standing. Garchomp's jump had sent him high into the air. Charizard followed, flapping his wings twice before taking off into the air. When he was at eye level with Garchomp, the Ground Nation Senator seemed to fling himself through the air at him.

Torchic watched on in horror as Garchomp's teeth dug deep into Charizard's throat. Charizard let out a mighty yell as Garchomp's teeth continued to sink deeper and deeper into his throat. Garchomp held on the whole way down, as Charizard began to fall. Torchic watched, frozen in place. It only took seconds, but it felt like a lifetime as the two of them crashed to the ground, a loud thump and the sound of flesh tearing as they did so.

Garchomp stood, releasing his grip on Charizard's teeth. "Poor little dragon," he sighed. "So close, yet so far."

Garchomp bent down, the long, single claw on his left arm flashing in the sunlight. Torchic turned away, cringing, readying herself for the sickening sound of Garchomp's hook going through Charizard's head. Instead, the sound she heard was familiar. Looking up, she watched as Blaziken began to kick Garchomp in the face repeatedly. Her heart soared as her father began to beat the Ground Nation Senator into submission. Though she still felt worry graze her heart when she saw Charizard. Blood was leaking out of his neck, and fast.

But whatever happened, Garchomp would get what was coming to him. With every smack to his face, the Ground Nation Senator seemed to be getting woozier and woozier. He was swaying on his feet, his arms not up, barely ready to fight. But Blaziken was still beating him, still causing pain for what he'd done to Charizard. "I… will… KILL YOU!" Blaziken roared. This time, his fist came down on Garchomp's face. There was a loud crack as his fist hit, and Garchomp fell to the ground, his fins up, blocking his face.

"No more!" he shouted. "No more! Please!"

"You must die," Blaziken said authoritatively. "That's how this works."

"I know," Garchomp said. "I know." He sounded as though he were sobbing. There was a small part of Torchic's heart that reached out to him, that almost wanted to coddle him and to take his suffering away. But that part was overwhelmed by her sheer support of her father killing this monster. All because of Charizard, who was still awake, who was still looking out at the crowd that surrounded him, but who was also still dying.

"Let's get this over with," Blaziken growled, raising his clawed hand.

Garchomp nodded, and closed his eyes. "Yes," he agreed. "Let's."

Garchomp lunged forward and plunged his hook into Blaziken's stomach. Blaziken, shocked, looked at his opponent. Torchic gasped, and wanted to turn away. She also wanted to jump into the middle of the circle, and to slice Garchomp's neck from the back. But she couldn't bring herself to do either of these things. All she knew how to do was to breathe and listen. And when she listened, she heard Garchomp's growl in Blaziken's ear, which caused a shiver to run up her spine and for a whirl of confusion to enter her mind. "For the Reapers."

Garchomp's arm slashed upwards, unzipping Blaziken's body. He pulled it out. Blaziken, more so shocked, it seemed, than he was in pain, fell to the ground. He held his stomach and groaned as blood began to leak from the long, perfect slit Garchomp had made. Garchomp smiled and walked around the broken warrior. "Oh, come on!" he shouted. "It couldn't have hurt that bad! I didn't go _that_ deep!"

He kicked Blaziken in the face. Blaziken's head twirled around, and his eyes suddenly met Torchic's. Torchic didn't want her father to see the fear in her eyes. But, to her surprise, it wasn't acknowledged. Instead, he smiled. "Torchic," he whispered. Torchic couldn't hear him, but she could read his lips perfectly. At last, his eyes closed, and he released a long breath. Tears leapt to Torchic's eyes and she ran out of the circle, her small, feathery wing the only thing she could use to wipe away the tears. She didn't care about medics or the Water Nation novices that had captured them. There was nothing left for her. Her heart was empty.

She was so lost in her thoughts and so saddened that she didn't see Froakie until she crashed into him. She looked up at him, fearful that he might do something to her. "Please," she said. It came out in croak, so she cleared her throat and started again. "Please don't hurt me."

Froakie's eyes were full of genuine concern. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Torchic looked at him for a moment, then shook her head. "No," she said. "We need to get back. Charmander has to know."

Froakie's eyes widened. "Torchic, what happened?"

Suddenly, she began to cry fiercely. She wept on the ground, her tears falling into the sand. "They're dead!" she shouted. Froakie bent down, and she knew that he only meant to comfort her. But she glared at him anyway, and he bent his head down and backed away. After a few more seconds, she sniffed, then stood.

"We have to go back," she said, "right now."

"What about the medic?" Froakie asked.

"Forget the medic," Torchic said, suddenly regaining composure. _How am I doing this?_ she thought. She sighed. "We need to go now."

Froakie looked at her for a moment more, then nodded. "We got Empoleon into the transport vehicle," he said. "Charmander sent me out to see if you were okay."

"I'm fine," she said. "Let's just go."

Froakie nodded, and the two of them began to run back towards the transport vehicle. Torchic could hear the chaos erupting behind her, making her want to cry again. It meant the battle was over, that someone had died. _How will Charmander take this?_


	13. Charmander VI

**Charmander**

"Check under the benches! There's gotta be something we can fix him up with."

Charmander nodded in agreement as Piplup stooped down. Epoleon's body lay between them, stoic and unmoving. Charmander worried that the Senator may have been dead, but the slow, steady breathing that he could see and hear told him otherwise. He wondered, as he bent down to look underneath the bench of the transport vehicle in order to see if there were any emergency medical supplies there, just how long it would be before Empoleon actually was dead.

"Did you find anything?" Piplup's panicked voice came from behind him. He could hear Piplup's knees hitting the floor as he continuously bent down to search under the bench on his side of the vehicle.

Charmander shook his head. "No," he said. Then, his eyes fell upon something. "Wait!" he shouted. "I think I found something!"

"Bring it up!" Piplup shouted, still searching for something on his own bench.

Charmander reached for what he saw. It had been pushed all the way to the back of the bench, and it caused a tremendous strain on his arms just to stretch for it. He grabbed at it once, but he still couldn't get a grip on it. "You get it yet?" Piplup asked, his footsteps indicating that he was coming over.

"Almost," Charmander said.

At last, with one painful swipe that felt like it was going to tear his arm off, Charmander grabbed what he had seen. He pulled on it. It was much heavier than he had imagined, but he was still able to slide it out from under the bench. It was a red case, perhaps his size, with the word EMERGENCY written in large letters at the top of the case. In the center of the case was the Water Nation's sigil; a blue trident made of water.

Charmander opened it up and looked at what was in the case quickly. There was a small pocket for bandages that could be used for small wounds. There was some sort of anti-bacterial spray, other stuff that he didn't know what do with. _Oh, Arceus, without Flareon here soon, Empoleon's as good as dead!_

But without Flareon there, someone would have to save the Water Nation Senator.

Suddenly, Charmander saw everything that he was looking for. There was a roll of string (not much, but it seemed like it could be enough), and a needle to go along with it. There was also a fairly large roll of white bandage that he would be able to wrap around Empoleon's wounds once they were stitched up. Charmander took the object out of the case and slammed them on the bench. Piplup looked at them over his shoulder, his face filled with concern. "Do you know what you're doing?" he asked quietly.

"No," Charmander said. He picked up the needle and string, and carefully threaded the string through the hole at the top of the needle.

"Shouldn't we wait for your medic?" Piplup asked, his eyes darting back towards his father. "I mean, he would know what to do better than either of us."

"No," Charmander said. "We can't wait any longer. Look at the blood he's losing, Piplup. There's a tiny puddle next to his arm and his chest is running with red already. If we don't sew up his arm and chest soon, he's going to die."

"You don't know that!" Piplup shouted angrily.

"I do," Charmander said. "Now try and find another one of these things while I sew up his arm. We have to do this as quickly as possible."

Piplup stared at him, clearly unhappy that Charmander had taken charge of the situation. Then he nodded. "Okay," he said. "Okay. You do what you have to do. Just… just please save him."

Charmander nodded. "I'll do what I can. Find another one of these, now."

Piplup nodded and bent down on all fours, his head ducking underneath the bench. Charmander turned towards Empoleon. A new sort of strength flowed through him, a bravery that he never thought he had the ability to possess. _I will save him,_ he thought determinately. _I will._

Charmander ran over to the other side of the Senator. His flipper was sprawled out on the floor, leaking blood. The small puddle was growing, and fast. Charmander took the needle in his hand, and realized that his hand was shaking. He took in a deep breath, then let it out. The shaking subsided. He leaned in, taking Empoleon's flipper with his free hand. Cautiously yet as quick as he could muster, he began to thread the string through one side of Empoleon's wound to the other. Slowly, he managed to get the hang of it. _Not as hard as it looks,_ he thought to himself. _Just in… and out. In… and out._

When he was halfway through with stitching up the flipper, Piplup yelled triumphantly. Charmander looked over for a quick moment, seeing Piplup's eyes gleaming with hope as he held up another box. "Well, don't just stand there with it!" Charmander shouted. "Grab the string and needle!"

Piplup nodded and looked down at the box. Charmander turned back to working on Empoleon's flipper. After a few moments, he heard Piplup mutter, "Shit." Charmander turned towards him. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Well," Piplup said, "there's no string or needle. But I found, um, this."

Piplup pulled out a large roll of medical tape. The tape was wide and thick, and would probably be able to hold Empoleon's stomach together long enough for them to get to safety. Charmander hoped that was possible, anyway.

He looked down at his own work, in and out, in and out. Was there going to be enough time to sew up his stomach? He was only just starting to sew up the second half of Empoleon's flipper, and how long had it been? Three minutes; three minutes at the least. And to top that off, he was running out of string. He would probably only have enough for another flipper's worth of sewing when this first flipper was done. Enough for another flipper, _maybe_.

He turned back towards Piplup. "Break the tape into little pieces," he explained, thinking quickly. "If you do that and pinch the skin together, then tape, it should be able to hold him together until we get to a real medic."

Piplup looked down at the tape, then back up at Charmander. He nodded firmly, already beginning to break the tape apart.

Charmander looked back down. The string was running out my faster than he'd realized. He thought for a moment that he may not even have enough string to finish this flipper. But he kept going, keeping the determination of saving Empoleon within his mind. _In… and out. In… and out._

At last, he was finished. He managed to sew up what was left of the wound with the final piece of string. As it ran out, he slipped the needle out of it. He looked up and watched as Piplup stood on his father's chest. Empoleon was large, too large for Piplup to be able to stretch himself forward and tape together the wound with ease. Charmander went back around the Water Nation Senator, the needle gripped tightly in his fist. He'd done it. Somehow, against everything, and without any sort of medical training whatsoever, he'd done it.

Sighing with relief as Piplup began to put the last of the tape on his father, he opened up the medical box he had found the needle in and placed it inside. He stood up, looking at the white roll of bandage that he had put on the bench. He picked it up, walked over to Empoleon's flipper, and began to roll it up with the white bandage. He looked over at Piplup, who was going at a much faster pace than he had been going when sewing up Empoleon's flipper. _Let's hope that doesn't affect anything too much._ "Hey, Piplup?" he asked. "When you're done with that tape, I'm gonna need some."

"There'll be plenty," Piplup replied, steadily placing another piece of tape across Empoleon's chest.

Charmander nodded and looked back at what he was doing. It took him a few minutes, but he managed to tightly wrap up Empoleon's flipper. He turned, about to ask Piplup for the tape, but saw that Piplup was already standing next to him, holding out what remained of the tape. Charmander took it and nodded his thanks to Piplup. Piplup nodded back. "Just finish it."

Charmander tore off a large piece of the tape. It stretched about a foot across, and the tape itself was roughly four or five inches wide. Carefully, he wrapped the tape around Empoleon's flipper. He secured it, pressing down on it gently so as not to ruin the stitches, but also so as not to have the bandage come off. At last, it was finished. Charmander walked over to the nearest bench and, with a sigh, sat down. Piplup joined him a moment later.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Charmander stared at Empoleon's body, watched as the Water Nation Senator's breathing continued rhythmically. He couldn't hear him, though he could see his chest rising and falling. Charmander hoped that this was a good sign. He looked to his right, where Piplup had sat himself down on the bench next to him. There was worry on his face, though Charmander thought he could see something just below it, far enough that it was almost unnoticeable. Hate?

But it was gone when Piplup turned towards Charmander, gratefulness spread across his face. "Thank you," he said. "I don't… I don't think my father would have survived without you."

"I just hope he does," Charmander admitted, turning his gaze back to Empoleon. "When Torchic and Froakie get back with Flareon, everything should be fine."

They sat in silence for a moment more. Then, Piplup spoke up. "So," he said. "I need to ask you something. While we were looking for stuff to patch up my father, we were ducking under the benches, taking our eyes off of each other. Why… why didn't you try to kill me?"

The thought had never crossed Charmander's mind. He had just thought about helping him. "I don't know," Charmander admitted. "Why didn't you do anything to me?"

Piplup looked down. "I wanted to," he said. "I will admit that, I wanted to. But… but what did you do wrong? Why would you have deserved it?" He barked a laugh. "Oh, here we go. I'm probably starting to sound like Flareon, now, aren't I?"

"No," Charmander said, smiling. "I have another friend, who's at home right now. Tepig, his name is. He, uh… his parents were killed. By Water Nation."

"The Emboars?"

Charmander jerked his head up. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, it was them."

"So… so how is he now?"

"He's been in the hospital, for a while," Charmander said. "We visit him every day, just to make sure he's okay."

"It was… it was suicide watch, wasn't it?"

Charmander turned toward Piplup. Was he really telling a complete stranger everything that had happened to a friend of his? But he found himself nodding anyway. "Yeah," he said. "The Council had decided that my dad and I would take him in, seeing as I was pretty close friends with him. The whole time he was with us, he refused to eat. Anything that we put in front of him, he wouldn't eat it. It went on like that for three days. All he had in those three days was a minimalistic amount of water. He admitted it, when he was put in front of the Council and medics to talk about his situation, that he was trying to starve himself to death. They put him in the hospital the next day, started to force-feed him and give him what water he needed through IV's. He's been getting better. But… he just hasn't been the same since."

There was another pause of silence. Piplup looked down at his feet, as did Charmander. How stupid could he be, telling this to the enemy? But what kind of an enemy was Piplup? He was just concerned for his father, or so it seemed. Didn't ever side have a cause to fight for? Those that they loved to fight for? It was just their differences that drove a wedge between them. Tepig's words suddenly echoed in his mind. _It feels like when we fight, we're just reaching into a bottomless pit for the thing at the bottom._

Then he saw Sir Arcanine sitting next to him, his wounded eye leaning in closer, the eye that was proof enough of the nature of the enemy. _It's for the cause that we fight. It's for the future we fight._

 _It's for us that we fight._

Suddenly, Empoleon sprang up, his eyes wide in shock and terror. Piplup got off the bench, his face suddenly filling with relieved joy. "Dad!" he screamed.

Empoleon looked around the vehicle, his eyes wide. "Where, where am I?" he asked. "What happened?" Suddenly, his gaze met Charmander's. Charmander gulped nervously as the Water Nation Senator's threatening glare seemed to burn into his skull. "What is this… this _Fire_ Nation scum doing here?"

"He… he saved you, dad," Piplup said. "He was the one who stitched up your arm. He… he found tape too, and we put it on your chest. I'm sorry, dad, but he was close by when we found you, him and another one, one named Torchic, and we just couldn't leave you there like that."

"And where is Froakie?" Empoleon asked.

"My friend, Torchic, went to go find a Fire Nation medic," Charmander explained. Empoleon's eyes widened with panic and suspicion, but Charmander quickly continued. "He's extremely anti-war, promise. She should have been back by now, though, I don't know what's taking her so long. We sent Froakie out to find her and make sure she's okay."

Empoleon stared at Charmander suspiciously for a moment more. Then he turned back towards Piplup. "Piplup," he asked quietly, though Charmander could still obviously hear what he was saying. "Do you trust him?"

Piplup looked over at Charmander, his face making it obvious that he was unsure of what to say. _How couldn't he trust me?_ Charmander thought, shocked. _I just saved his father's life, for Arceus' sake!_

"I-"

Before Piplup could continue, there was a loud, panicked banging on the back door of the transport vehicle. Everyone turned towards the sound. Charmander heard a low growl come from Empoleon, as though he were angered by whatever lay beyond that door before even knowing what it was. Then, Charmander heard a familiar voice. "Charmander, please open the door! Please, please!" She sounded like she was crying.

Froakie's voice, then. "Piplup? We couldn't find the medic. And maybe… maybe that's for the best."

Piplup glanced over at Charmander as the two of them started for the door. Together, they swung the door open. Torchic suddenly launched herself at Charmander, sobbing heavily into his shoulder. He put his arm around her head, his hand rubbing against her soft, orange feathers. "Hey," he said. "It's okay. You're safe."

"But… but they aren't, Charmander," she said. "Our parents."

Charmander suddenly broke the embrace. He held Torchic at arm's length in front of him. She looked down at the ground, tears still dripping from her cheeks. "Torchic," he said, "what happened?" In his heart he feared the worst, and knew it to be true.

When she said it, he nearly sunk to the ground in grief. "They're dead," she whispered. Then, louder, sobbing. "Our fathers are dead!"

"No…" Charmander whispered. Then he did feel himself slipping to the floor. What was life anymore, but a dream where everything was eventually taken away from you? The only thing that stopped him from falling all the way to the ground was Piplup.

"Easy, I've got you," Piplup said, sitting Charmander on the bench. Charmander leaned back, his head hitting the wall of the transport vehicle harder than he had anticipated. But the pain didn't matter. None of it mattered. Now he was alone in the world, with no rhyme or reason to it.

"How?" Charmander asked. "How did it happen?"

Through sobbing, Torchic told him. "There was a Warrior Battle," she explained. "Garchomp challenged our fathers. He… he bit his teeth into Charizard's neck. Then… with Blaziken… with my _father_. He ripped him open. It was like… like he _unzipped_ him."

"No," Charmander said, leaning back. "Why?"

"It's war."

The four trainees looked over at the Water Nation Senator. Empoleon was sitting up, though it seemed to take most of his strength. He watched as Empoleon began to crawl his way towards the driver's seat of the transport vehicle, somehow managing to fit himself in between both seats as he spoke. "We have all lost something or someone today," he said. "No matter how big or how small. But do not fret, for now you are safe. We will honor the memory of those that we have lost by living, and continuing to brave the coming of the storm."

Empoleon flipped open a small hatch near the wheel of the vehicle. In it was a small red button. He pushed the button, and the engine of the vehicle revved up. Piplup looked around at those that surrounded him. Charmander's eyes locked on his, and though he saw gratitude there just a few minutes prior, now there was a wary distrust within. "Um, dad," Piplup asked, "where are we going?"

"Aquarius," Empoleon said.

"What?" Torchic shouted.

"The Water Nation's capital city," Empoleon explained.

"Why would we take…? I mean, no offense," Piplup said, holding up his flippers. "You saved my father, and I'm grateful. But that still doesn't mean I can trust you guys, just after that. Dad, why are we taking these two Fire Nation novices along with us?"

"Because they're as good as dead if I let them out," Empoleon said. "The young boy… what's your name, son?"

"Charmander," Charmander said.

"Charmander," Empoleon said. "Ah, yes, Charizard's son. You saved my life. And Torchic, I presume? You tried to do so as well. I'm grateful, and I'm sure the Council will be as well."

Charmander shivered. "The Council?" he asked.

Empoleon nodded, and for the first time, Charmander realized that the vehicle was moving. "Yes," he said. "They will understand why I have taken you. As will the Fire Nation, I hope. I'm not going to leave you to die. With Garchomp still alive, no matter how far from the desert your capital is, the Ground Nation will succeed in destroying its walls and invading. I will not have those that have saved my life be kicked to the ground and killed just because they are of a different Nation."

Piplup looked at Charmander and Torchic warily. Charmander returned with the same wary look. He wiped the tears from his eyes. He would not be seen as a child in front of the Council. He had to be strong. The Water Nation awaited him.


	14. Chikorita III

**Chikorita**

Though the sun still hadn't set yet, Chikorita still insisted on sleeping.

It wasn't because she was tired, though. She was, though not as much as she had been that morning, having stayed up all night the previous night, excited for her first real battle with the Grass Nation. That excitement had quickly died away, though, and it was because of what had killed that excitement that she couldn't sleep. Short but horrible visions flashed in her mind. She could still see her sister, Bayleef, getting killed by Senator Rhyperior. Could still see Meganium attacking him, vengeful because of the death of his daughter. Could still see Rhyperior kill him, then go after her. Could still see Venusaur, who had died for her, a death in vain if ever there was one.

She slept because of Tyrunt and Krookodile. The two were a strange pair. From the way they talked and walked, Chikorita could tell that Tyrunt was a novice or trainee of some sort, while Krookodile was someone who had been assigned to train him. Perhaps it didn't work exactly like that. Perhaps whatever group they were a part of was less about assigning masters for novices and more about joint training as was done in the Nations. But she also knew that they were not a part of any of the Nations.

All she was told was that they were Wardens. At least, Krookodile was a Warden. Tyrunt was a Warden in training, and he and Krookodile had been on a "scouting mission." They weren't very specific as to what this meant, though Chikorita was suspicious of their purposes. What were they doing, spying on other Nations? Why would they do that? If they were, she thought, then what kind of a malevolent group hid behind their warm smiles?

It was at the point when their ambiguity was getting both annoying and suspicious that she had decided to go to sleep. She would need the rest, as she was already planning on leaving in the middle of the night, when Tyrunt and Krookodile had both fallen asleep. It wasn't a fool-proof plan, and she knew it. For all she knew, the two of them (or Krookodile, at least) had been trained in being able to hear things in the dead dark of night with ease. For all she knew, they were both going to kill her beforehand, or try to get her to join their strange group.

Which was, it seemed, their plan.

As Chikorita lay awake, trying to get to sleep, she could hear the two of them talking. When they had made it back to the cave, the temperature had suddenly dropped. Krookodile had gone out to get wood in order to build a fire, while Tyrunt attempted to talk to Chikorita. Each time he opened his mouth she would look at him distrustfully, trying to get the message across that she did not want him talking to her. But it was like he didn't even notice, and continued to talk to her as though he were trying to make friends with her. Needless to say, it didn't work out for him.

After the fire had been built, Chikorita had yawned, telling them that she was tired because of the long day that she had had. Tyrunt had insisted that she stay beside the fire to keep warm, but she told him that she wanted to sleep alone farther back in the cave. Though he had looked ready to protest again, Krookodile had shot him a stern look, which caused him to look down and nod his head. She felt a bit sorry for him at that point. He clearly _had_ meant well, at least in the moment. But she didn't know for sure if he and Krookodile were trustworthy. So, to the back of the cave she went to get to sleep.

After she had sat there, staring at the back of the cave for what may have been an hour, the idle talk of the two behind her grew louder. She decided that, since sleep didn't seem like it would be coming anytime soon, she would listen to what they were saying. She strained her ears a bit; they were talking fairly loud, though not loud enough for her to hear them clearly at the back of the cave.

"I'm telling you, she's just what we've been searching for," Tyrunt said in an argumentative tone.

"Maybe," Krookodile said. She could almost imagine him stroking his chin with his large, clawed hand. "But would she really want to do something like that?"

"You heard what she said, her family is gone," Tyrunt replied. "She has no other life to go back to."

"Well, she seems rather… weak." Chikorita glared when she heard Krookodile say this. "Not to say she couldn't be trained to be a Warden, but it would take a lot of time."

"You know what else takes a lot of time?" Chikorita shouted, sitting up. "Going to sleep without anyone bothering me."

The two of them looked at her, Tyrunt's eyes widening, Krookodile's face remaining blank. "I'm… I'm sorry," Tyrunt managed. "We should have asked you. We just, we saw you, and we knew that you had nothing else… nowhere else to go, and we just, um… Krookodile, a little help here?"

"If you want to explain it to her, go right ahead," he offered. "But that'll be your job, not mine."

Tyrunt stared at Chikorita, at a loss for words. Chikorita continued to glare at him mistrustfully. At last, Tyrunt sighed. "Come over to the fire," he said. "I'll tell you what you need to know."

Chikorita glared at him for a moment longer. Then, knowing it would be useless to refuse, she stood. Still glaring, she plopped herself down next to Tyrunt by the fire. She looked up at Krookodile, still glaring. Krookodile's eyes flashed with amusement. _Does he think this is a game?_ she thought. _How the hell am I supposed to trust either of them?_

Nonetheless, she turned back towards Tyrunt. Even if she didn't trust them, she would at least let him speak. Tyrunt sighed. "Around four years ago," he said, "I was the son of a Great Warrior and a Senator in the Rock Nation. Senator Tyrantrum and Sir Tyrantrum the Brave. I loved them, my parents. They were the best Pokémon the world will probably ever see. I remember how, every night when I was little, whenever there was a thunderstorm, one of them would come into my room, even if it was late and night, and just hold me. The thunder scared me when I was younger, and I cried. But they didn't care if I did. They still just held me.

"When my warrior training began, they were there to help me, every step of the way. The taught me how to truly fight. Where the enemy's weak spot was, how to dodge an attack from the sky, from the ground, from behind. Everything. There was a lot of bruising, and a lot of bleeding. They pushed me hard, but it was always okay, because they just wanted me to be able to survive. I blew up at them once, when I began to bleed from above my eye, asking them how the hell any of this had any point to it. My dad consoled me, telling me that someday, when they weren't around, I would have to fend for myself."

Chikorita could see Tyrunt's eyes start to water. Tyrunt stared into the flames of the fire for a moment, then looked up. He seemed like he was trying to hold in his tears. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Give me a second."

"It's hard on him," Krookodile whispered into Chikorita's ear. "He blames himself for what happened."

Chikorita could feel her own eyes tearing up as Tyrunt continued. "One day, we were fighting the Dark Nation. I was there, it was my first battle. Oh, I was so excited! I wanted to stay by my parents for most of it, just so I could show them what they'd taught me. I wanted to impress them, to show them just how much they had helped me to grow as a fighter. But I was placed on a different transport vehicle than them, which I was fine with. I would just find them in the battle.

"But the transport vehicle they were on… exploded. Everyone died. Everyone."

Tyrunt looked back into the fames, tears running down his cheeks. Chikorita felt like she too was going to cry, but managed to keep her tears in. At last, Tyrunt looked up at her. "Eventually, I did find them. They were stuck beneath a bunch of debris. A tank had exploded near them as well, and it had toppled over onto them. I ran to get help from our medics. Claydol, Nidoran, anyone that would be willing to help would have been fine!

"When I found Claydol, though, it was too late. When the tank had landed on them, they'd both been cut practically in half. When we finally removed and buried their bodies… Claydol, he said that they never would have been able to be saved in the first place. I don't think I've ever cried harder than that night, the night after they died. A few days later, there was a thunderstorm, and for the first time since I was little, I was scared.

"I decided to run away. I thought to myself that I wouldn't be able to take any more loss if it were thrown my way. So I did what I thought was the best possible thing; I ran. But running away from home unprepared isn't easy. By the fourth day I was lost in the wilderness, nothing to eat or drink, and sure that I was going to die long before I would be able to find any food or water.

"But I didn't die. I was rescued by someone named Tranquill. He offered me food, nursed me back to health. Then he asked me if I wanted to become a Warden. I was just as skeptical as you are now, wondering whether or not it was a trick. But I agreed, seeing as I had nowhere else to go. He took me back to the base, where I learned everything that a Warden truly was. How we are the true protectors of this world from the darkness that lies beyond the truth of understanding."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Chikorita asked.

"If you think that the wars that you fight with other Nations are big, you haven't seen the half of it," Tyrunt said. "There's a much bigger war at hand right now, has been for a long time." He smiled at Chikorita, who felt almost relieved by it after the horrible story he had just told. "We want to know if you want to fight with us, on the front lines of that war."

"If you say no, then we will bring you back to the Grass Nation without any harm coming to you," Krookdile pitched in. "We have no reason to bring any harm upon you."

Chikorita looked back and forth between the two of them. She knew that Tyrunt's sob story was supposed to get her to feel the emotions necessary to want to join their strange group, though it hadn't worked on her. That wasn't to say that it wasn't a true story; somehow, she could just tell that everything Tyrunt told her was the truth. After having seen his eyes as she first cried in that clearing just a few hours ago, eyes that revealed a painful sympathy to a past similar to Chikorita's present, she believed every word of what he said.

Krookodile, on the other hand, was a different story entirely. How did she know she could trust him? Just because he was training Tyrunt to become a Warden didn't mean that he could be trusted. But, she thought, wouldn't that mean that Tyrunt could not be trusted either? Unless he wasn't aware of any other plans that Krookodile may have for her.

"I'll think about it," she said. She stood up, turned around, and began to walk to the back of the cave.

"Wait, really?" Tyrunt's voice was filled with joy. "I'd… we would love it if you joined. Really, it's not that bad. Plus, it's pretty kick-ass."

Krookodile laughed. "Yeah, you just wait until you're out on the battlefield against the enemy. Then you'll _really_ be regretting that."

Chikorita turned back around, wanting to know the answer to one final question before she fell asleep. "Who is the enemy?" she asked.

Krookodile and Tyrunt exchanged nervous looks. Then they turned back towards her. "We, um… they call themselves… Reapers."

The word meant nothing to Chikorita. "Okay," she said. She turned around, curled up, and closed her eyes. It didn't matter, whether they were trustworthy or not. She wouldn't be dragged into a secret war between two factions called Wardens and Reapers. It sounded like the most ridiculous lie ever concocted. And if it was real, it wasn't something she wanted to be dragged into. She also didn't want to risk telling them no, just in case Krookodile decided that she knew too much and took her in, maybe even as a prisoner, just because he could.

No. She wasn't going to join the Wardens. She was going home.


	15. Piplup V

**Piplup**

As the transport vehicle bumped along towards Aquarius, the trainees from the two nations separated. Piplup and Froakie sat on one bench while Charmander and Torchic sat on the one across from them. The benches were cold and uncomfortable, and the chill on his ass made Piplup shiver. Across from him, Charmander and Torchic didn't seem to notice. Torchic was leaning against him, her face miserable, her eyes and cheeks wet with the shine of tears. Piplup felt a slight pang of sympathy for the two of them. He had gained back his father, but they would never get theirs back.

But that didn't mean that he had to trust them. Just because Charmander had saved his father and just because Torchic had gone to find Flareon didn't mean that the two of them could be automatically trustworthy. Piplup felt a small part of him screaming at the rest of his mind, telling him to stop being so cautious and just understand what was in front of him; without the Fire Nation trainees that sat across from him, his father would be _dead._

But for some reason, the deeply held belief that Piplup had of the enemy being the enemy still stayed firm within his heart. It was like a stone, never able to be budged from the spot that it sat in. He didn't know if he wanted to try and push it or not. Perhaps it would result in a new friendship. Or perhaps it would result in him becoming weak.

Piplup turned to his left. Froakie was sitting there, watching the Fire Nation trainees. Piplup leaned in a whispered. "Do you trust them?"

Froakie looked at him, wide-eyed. "Well, of course I do," he whispered back. "Piplup, they just saved your father's life!"

"I know that," Piplup whispered, a bit harsher than he had meant to say it. "Just something about them seems… off."

"What?" Froakie seemed absolutely flabbergasted. "How? They've done nothing wrong other than save Empoleon's life!"

"Exactly," Piplup said, his mind racing for a reason not to trust the Fire Nation novices that sat across from him. "Why would they do that?"

"You pretty much had them at knife-point, Piplup!"

He had a fair point. Piplup sighed and looked down at his feet. He felt Froakie lean in, and his hot breath tickling his ear as he spoke. "I know you're just trying to find excuses not to trust them," he said. "And that's fine. But they saved your father's life, Piplup. They could have killed both of us when we weren't looking if they wanted to. But they didn't. Just face it; they're not like Lucario. They can be trusted."

Piplup let his gaze fall back on the two of them. Torchic was staring at the ground, her eyes void of any emotion. Meanwhile, Charmander was gazing at the front of the transport vehicle, not really looking at anything. From the look on his face, Piplup could tell that he was lost in thought. What was he thinking about? Piplup wondered. His father? His friend Tepig?

 _They're just like us,_ Piplup realized, and it felt as though his mind had been opened. Just like him and Froakie. They had friends back in their own Nations, Nations that had taught them to be loyal to them, to be loyal to their cause. They were a duo in this war, one that would last beyond the first battle and long into the battles to come. He could tell just by the way they were sitting next to one another that, when one of them realized it, they would go from friends to lovers. Just from the way she was leaning on him and he was leaning on her, he could tell.

 _Everyone in every Nation has a story to tell_ , Piplup thought. But he shook the thought away. There were some paths of thought you just didn't go down. At least, he wouldn't continue down that one until they were finally safe in Aquarius.

As though his thoughts had been an Omen, he heard Empoleon wheeze in the front of the vehicle. He looked over, concern spreading into his mind. But Empoleon still held the wheel of the transport vehicle steady, and he looked comfortable where he sat. "We're here," he wheezed. When Piplup's eyes darted to focus on the front window, he realized his father was right.

Large brown buildings reached for the sky around them. They stretched high into the air, as though they were trying to touch the clouds that floated so many feet above them. The smallest of the buildings were two stories high, while there were two buildings in the city that rose to over twelve stories in height. Those buildings would be the capitol building and the hospital, which were adjacent to one another as they stretched up into the sky in the distance. The capitol building stood out more than the other ones, for it had been painted a sparkling blue. Piplup could almost see the Water Nation's sigil on the front of both the capitol building and the hospital. It made him feel at home again. But after so much had happened in such a short amount of time, everything seemed dream-like and unfamiliar.

The bumping of the vehicle had stopped when they had reached the streets of the city. The smooth, gray concrete streets stretched out behind and in front of them, snaking every which way throughout the city. Piplup thought about all of the Pokémon that were probably out on those streets. He smiled a bit, wondering how they would react to the absurdity of the vehicle used in the war, probably damaged on the outside, driving slowly yet steadily towards the hospital.

That was, in fact, where Empoleon was taking them. There was no questioning it, especially once he went down one of the roads that ended at an intersection, one leading deeper into the city, the other leading directly to the hospital. The former went left and the latter went right. When they finally arrived at the intersection, Empoleon made a sharp right. Piplup felt himself slide into the wall, and he watched as Charmander and Torchic tried to keep themselves balanced on the bench as the turn continued.

Suddenly, the transport vehicle bumped. Empoleon stopped the vehicle, pressing the button that turned off the engine. "We're here," he breathed. "Someone's gotta see this."

Without warning, the back of the transport vehicle was swiftly flung open. Standing there, the sunlight gleaming over his shoulders, was Senator Feraligatr. "Sorry for being so forceful," he said, "but I saw you all drag Empoleon into the transport vehicle. I trailed you back to the city. I would have come into the vehicle, but I was surrounded by Ground Nation soldiers. They damn near pulled me under." In order to emphasize this point, Feraligatr lifted his leg. Large red claw and teeth marks dotted and streaked it, and indication of the struggle he had gone through.

"We're just glad you're here," Froakie replied. Charmander and Torchic nodded in agreement.

Feraligatr turned his head towards the Fire Nation trainees. His face darkened, and he glared at them distrustfully. "And what are they doing here?" he asked.

Charmander and Piplup exchanged a glance. Piplup stared back at Feraligatr. "They were close by when Froakie and I found Empoleon," he said. "My father, he's hurt badly, had his flipper and stomach torn open by Garchomp." Feraligatr's eyes widened at this, and he turned to try and see Empoleon, who was merely sitting in the front seat, as Piplup continued. "They helped to sew up my father's wounds, and when the string ran out, they used tape. Please, Feraligatr. They saved him." He wasn't going to mention how Charmander had sent Torchic off to find Flareon. It would have made everything much more difficult than it had to be.

Feraligatr eyed the trainees of the Fire Nation for a moment longer. Then, he nodded. "Alright," he said. He stepped out of the vehicle, went around, and opened up Empoleon's door. Empoleon fell out. "Arceus!" Feraligatr exclaimed. "Simipour!" he shouted over his shoulder. "Get him into the hospital, quick!"

A blue and yellow monkey-like Pokémon ran into Piplup's view. She leaned over Empoleon. Then, with a strength Piplup didn't even know she had, she flung him over her shoulder and began to carry him to the hospital. Feraligatr came back to the back doors of the transport vehicle. "Alright," he said. "Step out."

The four of them climbed out of the vehicle, Water Nation trainees first. When Piplup's feet hit the concrete ground, he sighed. It felt good to finally be at home, to finally be somewhere where there wasn't a war to be fought or blood to be shed. He knew that it wasn't over, though. By the look on Feraligatr's face, he knew it wasn't over.

Feraligatr sighed. "Water Nation troops are fleeing the desert as we speak," he explained. "Ground is still fighting against Fire. Garchomp has ordered his troops to push forward into Furnace. He means to storm the city and kill everyone in it." Feraligatr glanced at the Fire Nation trainees, a sympathetic sorrow in his eyes. "And from the way the battle's been going, he may very well succeed."

"Tepig and Fennekin," Torchic breathed. At the mention of Fennekin, Piplup swiveled his head around to face them. They _knew_ the fox-bitch? His own words echoed in his mind. _They're just like us._ He let his thoughts of petty revenge on someone that had only been doing what they had been taught to do their whole life slowly sink back into the depths of his mind. But that didn't mean the thought wasn't lurking there.

Charmander nodded, then looked up at Feraligatr. "So was that their plan all along?" he asked.

Feraligatr sighed and shook his head. "I can't say for certain," he said. "All I know is that it has happened, and it is done."

Piplup suddenly snapped up. He gazed at Feraligatr warily. _He's knows more,_ Piplup thought to himself. Something in the way Feraligatr had responded to Charmander's question told Piplup that he was holding something back. Something important. _Maybe it_ was _something the Ground Nation had planned from the start_ , he thought. But that wouldn't make sense; how would Feraligatr know if that had been the plan all along for the Ground Nation to betray the Water Nation in order to invade Furnace on their own?

Then, Piplup suddenly realized what it was. _He knows their fathers are dead_ , he realized. But he didn't know that they knew that already. He was holding it back, wanting to keep them from discovering it from someone else, someone who truly didn't know them. Lucky for Feraligatr, no one in the Water Nation would have to tell them; they were already well aware of that fact.

Feraligatr sighed again, then looked up. "The troops will the coming back soon," he said. "It could take hours before the last of our troops comes into the city. We've lost so many, more than I can bear. And it's all my fault. The alliance… why was I so stupid?"

 _That's the question I'll be asking myself for a long time_ , Piplup thought.

Feraligatr looked back down at them again. "Piplup," he said, "would it be alright if the Fire Nation trainees stayed with you and your father for the time being?"

Piplup looked over at Charmander and Torchic. The two of them had expressions on that didn't tell Piplup anything. It was his decision to make. "Sure," he said. "I owe them my father's life."

"We all do," Feraligatr agreed. "Come on, now. We can keep you there until further notice. When Empoleon is finally healed up, the Council will decide what to do with you. We will probably decide to let you go home. At least, that's what I'll be vouching for, and I can see Empoleon, Walrein, and Suicune doing the same. Come on, now. Let's go."

Feraligatr began to lumber off, heading deeper into the city. Charmander looked at Piplup warily, his expression a clear questioning of whether or not they could trust Feraligatr's word. Piplup nodded, and Charmander nodded back. The four of them began to walk with Feraligatr deeper into the city. Only a small part of Piplup's mind wondered just how much Feraligatr trusted the Fire Nation trainees. _Even_ I'm _not fully sure_ , Piplup admitted to himself.

But he would try. As they all began to walk towards his house, he resolved to try.


	16. Tepig I

**Tepig**

It was quiet, and Tepig was alone. He felt like crying, but there were no tears left for him to cry with. Fennekin, that was who was on his mind the most as he lay there, his back to the door to his room. Fennekin. Was she okay? He didn't want to get out of bed and hear the news that she'd been hurt. He didn't want to know if anything happened to her, the one thing in the world that he had left to love. He needed her, and it was that need that made him terrified that Arceus or whatever God there was out there was going to take someone else away from him again.

And Charmander and Torchic. Why did they need to go out there too? Everyone that Tepig loved was at risk, and here he was, in a bed, unable to push himself to get up or to do anything. The will to live had left him a long time ago. He hated the way that the nurses would push food on him, like it was something he actually wanted to consume, but just didn't have the energy to. No, that wasn't the case at all. He knew that he didn't have the guts to kill himself using something practical, so he would just wait it out and fight through the empty pain of hunger. But he couldn't do that now, not after he'd admitted to wanting to do so in front of the Council.

Tepig sighed and turned over in his bed again. He had no idea what time it was. It could have been late afternoon, or it could have been late at night. He had no idea, and he hoped he never would. That was, if no one came back. He had a sinking feeling in his gut, as he always did, that no one would. It wouldn't be on purpose, though, he knew that for a fact. He knew that if they didn't come back, they were dead, never of their own hand, and that there was nothing he could do about it.

A small part of his mind, the part that he considered the most rational, told him that he should stop worrying. That he should stop trying to kill himself slowly and to just live life. To find a way to be happy and not have to pretend the whole time. But how could he? Fennekin. He worried about her so much. He wanted her to come back safe because if she didn't, his heart would burst into a thousand shards. But did he love her? He didn't think so. He knew deep in his heart that she was just an emotional crutch for him, someone to make him feel better. But she didn't know that; she loved him.

He felt guilty about using her. Every time they touched, every time she smiled, every time her lips fell upon his lips, his heart sped up in pace because of the guilt that began to course through him. Guilty, guilty, guilty! His mind shouted that every day, because that's how he felt. But he didn't want Fennekin to know how he felt. He knew how his life would go already; he would start to pretend to get better (he already was, and somehow the observant doctors were buying it), he would ask Fennekin to marry him, they would live together and have children. Tepig would grow up, and, under the name Emboar, become one of the new Senators of the Fire Nation, serving as Moltres did; in the shadows, a myth among all but his wife and his children.

The life that he saw flash before his eyes didn't make him happy. What kind of a life was that? But at the same time, what did he want to do?

Kill. That's what he truly wanted to do; kill everyone in the Water Nation. Murder them all, all of them dead from wounds that only he had inflicted. They deserved to suffer after what they'd done to his parents, who were never evil people. They just loved him, just like Fennekin did, only he returned the favor with truthfulness. _Maybe I'm just going crazy_ , he thought, turning himself over in bed once more.

Before his thoughts could continue, he heard the screaming.

Tepig jumped out of the bed, wobbling on his legs. The only times he'd been out of bed since his parents were killed were to use the bathroom and get books from the library across the street (with an escort of one of the nurses, of course). But now, now something was happening, and he wasn't prepared for it.

Tepig took one look outside in the hallway and quickly ducked back into his room. He stood frozen for a moment, his mind whirling with that he saw. The battle that was going on today was with the Water Nation, at least, that's what he thought. _Then why are there Ground Nation troops in the hospital?_

Tepig ducked under his bed and stared out. Lucky for him, the nurses complied with his ever-persistent asking of them to keep the lights in his room off. And now, that decision was helping him. He saw the two clawed feet of a Gabite walk into his room. It began to walk around, its toenails clicking on the ground. Tepig found that he was breathing heavily with anticipation and nervousness. It was like something had switched in his mind, but he wasn't sure what. All he knew was that he wanted to live.

The Gabite continued to walk around the room. Then, with a suddenness so quick that Tepig almost didn't see it, there was a flash of fire at the doorway. The Gabite made a short choking sound before falling to the ground, its eyes glazed over in death. The last thing those eyes fell upon was Tepig, and it made him shiver.

"Tepig?" his savior shouted. The voice was soft and meek and scared, yet she was still determined underneath that. She shouted again. "Tepig? Are you here?"

Tepig got out from under the bed. Ponyta flinched, as though he were about to hurt her, then looked at him. She had a hose-like body of white, save for the fire that was her mane, which stretched down to her flame-made tails. Her dark brown eyes were filled with worry, panic, and rage. "Ground Nation," she explained quickly, "they broke through the walls of Furnace!"

Tepig's heart began to thump wildly. _No_ , the thought, _no that means…_

"I don't know the specifics and we don't have time to talk about them," Ponyta exclaimed hurriedly. "We have to go, now!"

Tepig looked at her for a moment more, then nodded. "There's a steel bunker that's located beneath the capitol building," Tepig explained. "We should go there."

Ponyta nodded, though she still looked unsure. "I don't know how we're going to get out of here, though," she said. "The hospital's been completely invaded."

"Well, let's stop standing around and get moving."

Ponyta nodded, then ran out headlong into the hallway. Tepig ran with her, knowing it was a stupid idea, but also knowing that they had no other choice. Ponyta turned left and began to gallop down the hallway. Tepig followed, looking at the carnage that wrought the halls. Nurses, visitors, and patients, all sprawled out in the hallway, their blood tracing up even to the ceiling. Their eyes were glazed over with death, and all of them had a look of absolute terror on their faces. Tepig wanted to vomit, but he knew that he couldn't get weak in the stomach now. Not when he still had to live.

"Over here," Ponyta ordered, and she turned right into a stairwell. She ran down it quickly and Tepig followed, his feet moving so fast that he thought he would fall down the staircase. His breathing was fast and heavy, and he felt as though everything were about to come apart within him. Everything was coming apart outside as he ran, so why not himself?

Without warning, a Gabite jumped at them from one of the doorways to another floor. Ponyta screamed as it latched its two claws deep within her skin. Tepig felt a slew of emotion rise up in him, like a tidal wave building and building before crashing. And crash it did; before he even knew what he was doing, Tepig had kicked the Gabite in the leg with his hind legs. The Gabite released Ponyta, turning to face Tepig, a sneer on its face. It slashed at Tepig, but Tepig was quick. He jumped up and released fire from his mouth, a large, thick stream of it. The Gabite screamed as its exposed body caught, and it began to run wildly. Tepig touched Ponyta on the shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Ponyta looked back at the dying Gabite. It was on the ground, now, screaming wordlessly, hoping that help would arrive before it died. "You saved me," she muttered.

"Come on!" Tepig shouted, not wanted to waste any more time. He began to trot down the stairs as quickly as his legs would carry him. Ponyta followed a moment later. He saw that she was continually flinching as she ran, her new wounds clearly cause for pain. But, nonetheless, she kept pace with him just fine.

At last, they ran through the emergency exit. They came out of the side of the hospital, in an alleyway between it and the capitol building that was erect adjacent to the hospital. Ponyta looked both ways to ensure that no Ground Nation troops were there, though Tepig knew that that would not be completely helpful if a gang of them were hiding, awaiting someone to ambush. It didn't matter, though, because Ponyta turned to the right and began to run as fast as she could anyway. Now Tepig was the one struggling to keep up, her long legs taking her to her destination in strides. Tepig did make it to the end of the alleyway just as she did.

When he got there, he tensed due to two figures standing behind her. It took his brain only a second to recognize them. The first was Monferno. His blue eyebrows were above two concerned gray eyes. His orange body was barely bright in the setting sun, but the fire on his tail burned as brightly as ever. He seemed to have been crouching, as he was standing as Tepig approached them. The second was Quilava, who was most always on all fours. He had a yellow underbelly and a greenish-blue body with red spots on it. From those red spots, fire could suddenly eject from them. Not only did he and his father use such things for intimidation, but they were powerful weapons as well, enhancing their fire powers tenfold.

Tepig hoped the two of them would be useful. He repeated when he'd told Ponyta about the bunker in the capitol building. "How do you know?" Monferno asked, clearly worried that the misinformation might lead to something awful.

"I know too," Quilava said, backing him up. "My father's told me about it before. Tepig lived with Senator Charizard for a while, so that's probably how he knows."

Tepig didn't want to tell them that he'd actually known due to having broken into the capitol a time or two before, trying to uncover secrets based on his own curiosity. He didn't know why he'd done it, but it was long before the deaths of his parents, when he was in a rebellious phase. Either way, though, it didn't matter. He nodded, and Quilava nodded back.

"Well, come on, then," Monferno said, starting towards the capitol. "Let's go!"

The four of them ran, Monferno the fastest and Tepig the slowest. Quilava ran next to Monferno while Ponyta ran behind them, glancing back at Tepig every now and again to make sure that he was keeping pace with them. Tepig nodded when she looked back for the fourth time. She nodded to him as well, as she stopped looking. But by the way her ears were raised, Tepig knew that she was still looking out for him.

"In here," Quilava advised, opening a door at the side of the capitol. Tepig had been through this door before in his late-night lonely escapades of long ago, but it was a surprise to both Ponyta and Monferno to see that something such as this existed. Quilava motioned everyone inside, Monferno first and ending with Tepig. Quilava took a few cautious glances outside before shutting the door firmly, locking it behind them.

Suddenly, flame burst from Quilava's back, so quickly that Tepig hadn't even noticed at first that the stairwell they were now in was not lit by anything other than whatever outside light happened to come in when the door was opened. Quilava's flame, though, helped immensely. Tepig looked at the vaguely familiar area set before his eyes. There was a stairwell with two sets of stairs, one going up and one going down. It was obvious which one they would take.

Quilava stared down, with Monfero trailing close behind. After taking the stairwell, a large metal door stood in front of the four of them. The door was latched closed from the inside, Tepig knew. But, since no one was within the confines of the room at the moment, the door would be unlocked. Quickly, Monferno threw the door open and ran inside, everyone else following suit. Tepig was the last one in, and he watched as the door closed behind them. This time, though, they would not have to rely on Quilava for light. There was a small lightbulb with a metal chain dangling above them. Monferno pulled it on.

The room was bare save for them. It was roughly ten feet long and ten feet wide, as well as about ten feet tall. Tepig looked around at the room, and realized just how clean it was. The gray stone that it was completely made of was without blemish, indent, or stain. Tepig had a bad feeling that somehow, very soon, that was going to change.

"What the hell do we do now?" Quilava asked. Now that they were in the bunker, Tepig could tell that he was shaken by what was going on. Then, Tepig realized, his heart was beating much faster than he'd thought it ever would when a time like this struck.

Suddenly, there was a loud explosion above them. Tepig could picture the capitol building, tall and mighty, symbolic of the strength of the Fire Nation, collapsing into nothing but ashes. He shivered at the prospect, and tried to push it out of his mind. But it wouldn't leave him. It stuck there like a thorn. Who knew what the strength of the Ground Nation would do to them, now that they had successfully invaded their home?

Monferno sighed and sat against the wall. He looked tired, causing Tepig to wonder just how long the invasion had been going on for before he was warned about it by Ponyta. "We wait," Monferno said, looking up at Quilava with eyes full of hopelessness.

"But, but everyone else," Quilava protested, but Monferno cut him off with a shake of his head. Quilava sat next to Monferno, close enough that their bodies were touching. Tepig didn't know why he noticed this, but he did. He listened, now, as the explosions and the shouts above them became louder and more frequent. Monferno was right. There was nothing they could do to help anyone fighting out there now. All they could do was wait.


	17. Charmander VII

**Charmander**

As Charmander walked through the city, Froakie and Piplup flanking him, Torchic by his side, and Feraligatr lumbering in front of him, he couldn't help but marvel at how similar to Furnace Aquarius seemed. The stonework of the ground below seemed almost identical to Furnace. Even the buildings looked similar in structure, though they were a bit of a lighter color than the ones at Furnace. Even still, the difference was almost unrecognizable. Anyone who hadn't lived in one of the two cities for most of their lives wouldn't have been able to tell the difference between them, save for the sigils and the different locations of the capitol building and hospital. But even still, the capitol building and the hospital were adjacent to one another, just like in Furnace. _It's as though we aren't that different after all_ , he thought.

He shook his head, clearing his mind of these observances. Or at least, he tried to. But it was still there, that sense of an almost estranged union between their nations that kept it from leaving his mind completely. He looked over at Torchic, who was also observing the tall buildings and vast skyline of the city. What she was thinking, though, was anyone's guess.

Piplup's thoughts, though, hadn't been too far from Charmander's own. Yes, he trusted Piplup and Froakie, and he hoped that they trusted him and Torchic as well. But the Water Nation in general, Charmander wasn't so sure about. Feraligatr may have _said_ that they would be able to go home, and he may have _said_ that the Water Nation Council was apt to be lenient, but that didn't mean much until something came out of it. And Charmander had a suspicious feeling that they were falling into a trap. He didn't think Piplup and Froakie knew it, but he was sure of it.

There was just something about Feraligatr. The way he talked about Furnace being invaded by the Ground Nation gave off an odd vibe, as though he had been expecting it even before the Ground Nation had turned against his. Charmander shook his head again. He was tired, he thought, that was all. He was tired, and they would rest at Empoleon's house for a few days. After that, when Empoleon healed, he and Torchic would stand in front of the Council. They would be lenient, just as Feraligatr had said, and they would let them go home without consequence.

 _But what is home with no one to go back to?_ Charmander quickly let the thought die. There was still Fennekin and Tepig. Delphox would be kind enough to let them live with her and her daughters. Charmander had no doubt in that; after all, she had been close friends to Charizard and Blaziken. He knew how awkward he would feel living there, with Braixen just beyond a wall every night, but that was a problem for a later time.

"We're here," Feraligatr announced. He swung his arm around, indicating at the large brown house that was in front of them. It was made of dark bricks, perhaps the darkest in Aquarius. It seemed to stretch high into the sky, though Charmander could see from counting the windows that the house only had two stories. Still, it was gigantic. He guessed the ceilings had to be ten feet high.

Feraligatr swung open the door. Charmander stepped in first, slowly. He felt Piplup push his way past him, and watched as he walked into the house. Piplup plopped himself down on a brown couch that sat in the nearest right corner of the first floor. Just like Charmander's own house, there were no doors on the first floor. There was a stairway to the left that stretched up to the second floor. Around the staircase was a blue rug that indicated a relaxing area, a family room of sorts. Looking beyond that, Charmander saw a simple white kitchen that may have been no more than fifteen feet by ten feet in length and width respectively. It was much bigger than his own kitchen, and he could see a stove that looked almost new. He could almost see Empoleon standing next to that stove, a pot on it, a spoon in his flipper, stirring around fish and pasta to be eaten by him and his son.

But that faded. He stepped into the house fully, which allowed Torchic and Froakie to step in as well. Charmander eyed Froakie curiously. He was spinning in the room, looking at the blue rug, the kitchen, and everything in between. "Wow," he breathed. "When did you guys remodel the house?"

Before Piplup could give him an answer, the front door slammed shut with the force of authority. Charmander looked up, his eyes meeting Feraligatr's. The Water Nation Senator's eyes had a dark look of determination in them, something that made Charmander want to curl in a corner. It was intimidating, really, because of how much it looked as though Feraligatr would reach his head down and chomp Charmander's own off.

"Now," the Senator said, "I need you all to tell me the truth."

Piplup froze, and Charmander watched as, for a moment, a look of horror passed on his face. Charmander himself was a bit taken aback by Feraligatr's demand. _How could he know that Piplup forced us to help him at first?_ Charmander realized that he didn't, and Piplup must have as well. "What truth?" Piplup asked, his face the best impression of confusion that he could muster.

"Not you!" Feraligatr snapped, his large head turning quickly to look at Piplup. Piplup shrank back a bit, and Charmander couldn't blame him. He too wanted to shrink back, but he knew that if he did, Feraligatr would think that something suspicious was occurring, even though nothing was. The head turned back, the eyes boring into Charmander's skull. Charmander could feel his face turning red as those eyes continued to stay locked on him, and he tried to control it, but it was a useless, futile task. "You," Feraligatr growled. "What the hell are you two really up to?"

"What are you talking about?" Torchic asked. Charmander almost spun around when he heard her voice, so full of determination and rebellion. It was as though she had completely changed from the scared warrior on the battlefield to the determined heroine. Charmander didn't need to turn to see that Torchic was staring defiantly into Feraligatr's eyes. He could see it reflected in Feraligatr's own when he turned to face her.

"You think that two Fire Nation trainees, that are the children of two Senators, mind you, would just put down everything and help an ailing enemy?" Feraligatr growled, his head lowering so he could glare more menacingly into Torchic's eyes. "Now, you two had better start talking."

"What do you want us to say?" Torchic asked. "That this is part of some scheme to infiltrate the Water Nation?" Feraligatr started to respond, but Torchic's continuation cut him off. "Because that would just be stupid. Two novices, who have only insofar been in one battle, who have no real experience on the battlefield, would just help Empoleon to infiltrate? How did we know we would be brought back here? Our plan was to go to our parents, and we would have, if they weren't dead!"

Feraligatr's face suddenly changed. A look of shock horror dawned on his face. Charmander saw his jaw quiver for a moment. _What the hell is wrong with him?_ He didn't expect Feraligatr to know that their parents were dead, but he didn't expect him to react like _this_ when he inevitably found out.

"They… they're dead?" he asked. To Charmander, he sounded panicked, as though something had just gone horribly wrong, and that it would have awful consequences on the future. "Both of them?"

"You didn't know." That was Piplup, and Charmander turned to face him, confused. Piplup's words hadn't come out in a question; it was as though he were stating a fact.

Feraligatr looked around at all of them. Realization dawned on his face, and he cleared his throat, regaining his composure. "I suppose you are correct," he said, "but that doesn't mean we won't be guarding the house until you're gone. Don't even _think_ about going out into the city. Just… stay here." The Water Nation Senator turned, his tail flicking in annoyance, perhaps with himself, as he opened the door and walked out. It slammed behind him, rocking the house and silencing everyone for a good minute.

Finally, it was Froakie who spoke up first. "Guys, why was he being so… odd?"

"I don't know," Piplup said, his eyes still locked on the spot where Feraligatr had been standing. "Something's going on, and we're not being told what."

"Did he know them, maybe?" Torchic suggested. Piplup and Froakie turned to face her, eyeing her curiously. "Maybe he was friendly with them," Torchic suggested.

Piplup shook his head. "No," he said. "Feraligatr's about as loyal to the Water Nation as you can get. I don't know what he's so worried about."

"Maybe because it's so… horrible," Froakie said. He turned to face Charmander and Torchic, true sympathy in his eyes. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said.

Charmander nodded. "Thank you," he said, suddenly feeling tears coming back to him.

There was silence for a little while. Then, with a sigh, Piplup left the room. He walked up the stairs, almost emotionless. Charmander, confused, turned to follow him. "Don't," Froakie said.

Charmander looked over at him. "What is it?" he asked.

"I know who he's thinking about," Froakie said. "Just let me talk to him."

Charmander backed away, still confused and slightly wary. "Okay," he said, though he wasn't sure if that was the correct response.

Froakie nodded in thanks, then climbed up the stairs, following Piplup.

Then, suddenly; "GET OUT!"

Charmander gulped, then looked at Torchic. She looked at him and indicated to the stairs with her eyes. Charmander nodded. They both began to climb the stairs, Charmander wondering what the hell had just happened.


	18. Froakie I

**Froakie**

"GET OUT!"

Froakie gulped and jumped back. When he'd gone upstairs, he had taken a right, placing himself in the open doorway to Piplup's bedroom. There, sitting on the floor, was Piplup, cradling a small notebook in his hands. Froakie stared at him for a moment, his mind calm, yet unsure of what to make of what he was seeing. "Is it Prinplup?" he burst out, cringing at the thought of his best friend yelling at him again. But what else could he do? That was the only thing he knew that could make Piplup as angry as he was. But there was the notebook, whatever that was for.

Piplup sighed, placing the notebook on the floor. Froakie glanced at the cover for a quick instant, seeing the words "JOURNAL" scrawled on it in Piplup's atrocious handwriting. Froakie focused his attention back on Piplup, who had stood and was walking over to him.

No, not him; them. He could feel someone's breath on his shoulder, and whether it was Charmander's or Trochic's, it didn't matter; both of them were there, and he knew it. Piplup glanced past Froakie for just a moment, staring at the two Fire Nation novices. Then, his gaze was focused back on Froakie, his eyes gleaming with coming tears.

"I'm sorry," Piplup said, looking down at his yellow feet. "I just… sometimes I come up to my room to write in my journal and I was just… being defensive about it, I guess," he said. He continued to look down, then shrugged when the trio that stood in the doorway didn't respond.

"Why did you leave in such a rush?" Charmander asked. Froakie could almost smile at the concern in Charmander's voice, but he kept his face steady. No point in letting the whole world know just how happy he was to see that members of different Nations were able to get along with one another. But it pleased him either way, and he hoped that it was a good sign for the future.

Piplup sighed in response to Charmander's question. He was silent for a moment, and Froakie was about to speak up, to repeat Charmander's question, before Piplup finally answered. "What's happened," Piplup said, "it's reminding me of… of my brother. He died when the Water Nation was fighting against the Fighting Nation. Senator Lucario… I watched him kill him."

Froakie could see the tears were starting to flow over in Piplup's eyes. He felt a stab of agony for his friend, nay, his _brother_ , as the suffering became prominent on his face. Froakie wanted to imagine that looks of concern and sorrow were also on the faces of the Fire Nation trainees that stood on either side of him, though he knew that he would not know that for sure unless one of them spoke up.

But neither of them did. Instead, Charmander pushed past Froakie. Not in a condescending or mean way; it was more of a slow walk by him, as he floated over to Piplup. Piplup bent his head as Charmander approached him, then wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "We know," Charmander said. "Torchic and I. How it feels to lose someone that you love. Torchic's mother and mine died in battle, just a few years apart from one another. And now, well…" Charmander trailed off, his concerned gaze looking past Froakie. Froakie turned, and saw that Torchic's eyes also held back tears that threatened to spill down her face. No; _everyone's_ eyes were filled with tears. Froakie felt a pang of guilt, at the fact that he had never lost anyone close to him, that he still had a father to care for him and would never know the pain of losing his mother or his brother.

In that instant, Froakie's mind wandered to his mother. He hadn't known her well, and it was only through fragments of memory that he was able to piece together who she was. He distinctly remembered the smell of pumpkin in their kitchen, and running downstairs at a very young age to see her bent over the oven in their house, taking a pumpkin cake out of the oven. The three of them- Froakie and his parents- had enjoyed the cake over the light conversation of usual family discussions and reminiscing of times long past, times that Froakie couldn't even truly remember.

Then had come the fateful morning that she had left them. Froakie had awoken to the sound of his father, Greninja, crying downstairs. Froakie walked down from his bedroom, listening as the sound of his stout father's sobbing became louder and more unbearable. He didn't think his heart had fluttered as much as on that day. He had walked halfway down the staircase, just enough for him to see his father in the kitchen, a piece of paper in his hands, sobbing over it, leaving tear marks that stained the message he had read and wept over.

"Dad?" Froakie had said in his almost squeaky voice, the voice of an innocent child. Greninja had quickly pushed back his chair and stood up from the table, wiping off his cheeks and eyes with his large hands. He managed a pained smile at Froakie, though even at his young age, Froakie was perceptive enough to know that everything was not as okay as his father's smile tried to make it out to be. "What happened?" Froakie asked. Then, realization had swept over him. "Where's mom?" he almost yelled.

"She's gone," Greninja had said, and Froakie's world had torn apart. He barely heard his father's words of sadness, that she had left them nothing but a note, telling them that things had become too dangerous for her to continue to stay in the Water Nation, and that she loved them all. To this day, the day in which Froakie watched as his friends' tears began to stain their faces as they remembered those they had lost, Froakie had never known what the meaning of her note was. Why would she have to leave the Water Nation, her home, because of it being too dangerous? He thought that she was lying. _Had_ to be lying.

But had he truly lost her? No, he thought; she had betrayed him, and that was not a loss.

"Yeah." Piplup's voice suddenly broke through Froakie's remembrance of the past. "But at least none of you were responsible for what happened to who you lost."

"What do you mean?" Charmander asked.

"I could have saved him!" Piplup suddenly burst out, and Froakie jumped a bit at that. He didn't like it when Piplup yelled. He didn't like it when anyone yelled, really. It made his heartrate rise and his stomach feel fluttering. But Piplup's voice dropped as he continued. "I was standing _right_ next to him when Lucario killed him. I could have stopped him. I could have _saved_ him!"

"Bullshit."

Even Froakie was shocked to hear the firm assurance in Torchic's voice. She stared at Piplup, her face like stone, her eyes glassy, her composure held firmly. "You could have done as much for Prinplup as I could have done for my father or Charmander's father. It happened and _that's it_. There's nothing we can do about any of it now."

"But-"

Torchic seemed not to hear the beginnings of Piplup's protest. "It's all in the past. We're not adults like everyone else that's around us, everyone who's experienced the worst that this world has to offer. We're not adults who can change the world. We're just kids. And we're not innocent, certainly not after today, but we are still kids. We _can't_ make a difference in this world, even if we wanted to. We're powerless; we can't stop when death comes knocking."

Torchic cut herself off, and realized with a start that the tears had spilled over her face. Charmander walked forward and hugged her. In that single moment, Froakie could almost see a bright future for the two of them. Piplup walked forward cautiously, padding up behind Charmander slowly, almost timidly. Charmander didn't hesitate; he took Piplup by the flipper and dragged him in. Piplup was shocked at first, but slowly, his face melted into a sort of solemn acceptance.

Froakie hung back, watching this as he faded into the background. Here they were; the future generation. Fire and Water, members of two different Nations, with no borders between them to share their love with one another. Froakie couldn't hold back his own tears, and was released from his statuesque watching when Charmander looked at him, beckoning him over.

They hugged like that for a while. And Froakie found that he had never felt a warmer embrace.


	19. Chikorita IV

**Chikorita**

Night had fallen.

The small, infinitesimal light of the moon shone through the entrance of the cave. Chikorita sat up, stretching herself out as she did so. She looked at the front of the cave, and saw the two shapes that lay in front of it. The moonlight shone down upon them in a large, slanted ray, making them partially visible in the light. Though the rest of the cave, such as the part that Chikorita had sequestered herself in as the day had continued to carry on, was dark, a reflection of the forest that lay just beyond the mouth of the cave.

The forest, dark and outstretched before her, it's reach unknown to her where she lay in a cave that could be one or one thousand miles from civilization, told her to stay in the cave. The softness of the moonlight was welcoming, a beacon of hope that all would be okay, so long as she stayed within its reach. Meanwhile, the forest beyond the cave was like a barrier, telling her to stay back in the safety of the cave, warning her of itself, of what it would do to her if she dared to step outside.

She had to ignore it. She pushed the doubts, the possibility of getting lost, and the threat of death out of her mind. She would not die; she would survive. She looked down at Krookodile and Tyrunt, two figures asleep, vulnerable, at the mouth of the cave. As she had been drifting off, just as the sun was setting, she'd heard Krookodile tell Tyrunt that he would be taking first watch. He'd muttered something about the Reapers. Or perhaps he had said it clearly, and it was the engulfing embrace of sleep that wrapped around Chikorita that prevented her from being able to hear him properly. It didn't matter, though; his original plan had backfired.

Chikorita stood, looking at them, _glaring_ at them. They were her captors, whether they were friendly toward her or not. No kind disposition was going to fool her into thinking that they weren't thinking of something more nefarious. Why in the world would they pick off a random, bleeding stranger, a child no less, from the tall grass just to try and indoctrinate her into their estranged group? Was it truly unthinkable that what they truly wanted to do with her was so unspeakably awful? She didn't have the slightest idea what they wanted to do with her, though. If they'd wanted to rape her, kill her, or leave her for dead, they would have done it already. They wouldn't have let their guard down like they did. It was in thinking about that that a small flicker of possibility snapped in her mind. What if they were telling the truth, and that there was some sort of secretive battle between Wardens and Reapers happening right under the noses of every Pokémon alive, and that they were so distracted fighting each other that they just didn't see it?

Chikorita shook her head. No. That was impossible. _Surely_ someone would notice if something of such a scale were happening. She didn't fully understand the inner workings of Nation leadership, but she knew for a fact that, if there was some sort of conspiracy within any Council of any Nation everyone everywhere would have heard about it by then. It was the only reasonable course of thought, that these two were merely fabricating things just to get Chikorita to…

To do what?

It was in staring at them, seeing her captor's no longer on guard (that was if they had been on guard in the first place), watching them sleep, so easily killable, that she realized she didn't have an answer for her question. They didn't mean to harm her. That thought took a moment to roll through her mind, to become a fully realized response to her situation. They didn't mean to harm her. They had saved her, and it had been for her and her alone.

Then why lie? Why would they lie to her about some great secret war going on between the Nations, under the noses of everyone, if they hadn't meant to save her for some evil purpose? Could it be true? Of course not, was what the reasonable part of her mind wanted to say. But still, a part of her brain stirred…

 _NO!_ she shouted in her mind. _Stop thinking of this stupid crap and just_ leave _!_

Chikorita shook her head, but continued to stare at Krookodile and Tryunt. Both of them, vulnerable. That's what she'd thought for a moment, wasn't it? What was to stop her from killing them both right now? She could use the vines on her neck that could stretch for up to fifty meters, wrap them around both of their necks. It didn't take a lot of strength to squeeze the vines tight, but she knew she would have to strain for Krookodile. Perhaps she would be able to do it. It would save her the trouble of hiding from them during the day.

All of this she concocted in the space of three seconds. She pushed it away, though, once she realized the kind of horror that would ensure if she failed, or if they truly meant no harm (which, though she didn't want to fully admit it, she begrudgingly thought was the most likely scenario). No; she would simply walk forward and leave the cave, lose them in the woods, and never see them again.

Carefully, Chikorita crept forward. She crouched low, her heart beating wildly. As she did so, she could her the soft, level breathing that the two of them emitted from their mouths. Krookodile's was deep and slow, while Tyrunt's was slightly faster, and much lighter. She continued to walk forward carefully, hoping, praying to Arceus, that she wasn't going to be spotted.

She walked between them, maneuvering her way around the small, smoldering ashes of the fire that had seemed to have stayed lit late into the night. The ashes told a tale of foreboding, a warning that, should Chikorita step out from the safety of the cave, all that she knew and loved would smolder as that fire did.

Chikorita felt ice go up her back when she heard something shift behind her. She twirled around gracelessly, her back foot touching the leftovers of the fire lightly, causing a large stick to scrape across the ground. Tyrunt stopped breathing in his sleep, as did Chikorita in the waking world, cringing at the sound that was no longer there. After what could have only been a moment but truly felt like an eternity, his breathing resumed. Satisfied, Chikorita began to turn around, only to see a tired-looking Krookodile sat upright, his hands splayed out on the cave floor, his eyes on her.

"Where are you going?" he kept his voice low when he said this. Chikorita felt frozen, unable to move or to speak. She tried to love her mouth and make words come out at the same time, but it couldn't be done. She felt for sure that she was going to be killed. Krookodile must have seen this is her eyes as well, for he leaned back against the wall of the cave, sighing. "I get it," he said. "You either don't believe us or don't want to get dragged into something as crazy as this."

Chikorita was silent. Krookodile was still staring at her, and it took her a moment to realize that he was waiting for a response. She nearly smacked herself on the head. "How am I supposed to trust the two of you when you're talking about secret wars being fought and inter-Nation conspiracy? That's pretty much what all of this boils down to!"

"We aren't going to drag you into anything that you don't want to be a part of," Krookodile said. He looked over at Tyrunt, then sighed. "Some of us didn't even get a choice."

Chikorita felt a minimal pang of sympathy at remembering Tyrunt's tale of his parents. But that was pushed aside when the suspicion crept back in. "And how do I even know that's true?" she asked.

"You don't," Krookodile said, suddenly standing. He was even more menacing in the dark, though his voice was soft and assuring. "But we're the best you have right now. We're the ones who saved you, and for you to walk out on that… well, it would upset him, that's for sure."

Krookodile nodded towards Tyrunt, whose mouth was agape in his slumber. Chikorita glared at him. "You're really going to use him to try and get me to stay?" she asked. "I feel no sympathy for him. Or for you. Or for your Arceus-damn war!"

Krookodile sighed and sat back down. He looked down at his feet for a while, seemingly contemplating something. He looked at them for so long that Chikorita almost left while he was still thinking. Though he finally looked up, just as she was about to go, which partially annoyed her. Nonetheless, she stayed when he spoke. "Tyrunt… didn't say anything about who his parents were for a reason."

There was silence for a moment as Krookodile let what he said sink in, before he spoke once again. "When he got to our base, Tranquill, the one that saved him, showed him a list of all the known Reapers in the Nations. It was a list of about eight members, most of them more being watched than confirmed Reapers. I guess you can guess, huh? His parents; confirmed Reapers."

Chikorita felt her mind shift. In some way, somehow, sympathy that she didn't want pushed its way up in her mind. "What?" she asked.

Krookodile nodded. "The fact that it was common knowledge made it worse on him. Other Wardens in training, like he is now… it took some… _adjusting_ to get along with the son of a Reaper. He was bullied and beaten. Kicked down and hurt. He would come to me with the worst kinds of scrapes, and every time I would ask him who did it and he would never say because we both knew it was that shit-eating-!"

Tyrunt stirred in his sleep. Krookodile looked shocked, then quieted down until Tyrunt's regular breathing resumed. Chikorita looked at Krookodile in shock. The amount of sheer emotion, real _raw_ emotion that had erupted from him was almost insane. She hadn't expected it to come from him, yet it did. And it was then that she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that it was real. All of it. She also realized that she didn't want any part of it.

"I'm sorry," Krookodile said. "It's just… he's the closest thing to a son that I have. I love him, Chikorita. And the way he looks at you… it's like he's just _hoping_ for a friend."

"Why are you even here?" Chikorita found herself asking. She didn't even realize it had been at the back of her mind until it slipped off her tongue, but when it was out, she realized that she really did want an answer to that question. Krookodile looked perplexed, so she elaborated. "Why me? Why did you choose me?"

"It wasn't like that," Krookodile said. "It was a matter of circumstance. There's a member of the Rock Nation that's on our list of suspected Wardens. We were scouting him out, trying to see if he was really one of them."

"Who?" Chikorita asked. Rhyperior and his drill, so close to her, the weapon that had slaughtered the rest of her family, came into the view of her mind.

But she didn't get an answer. Krookodile shook his head. "I can't tell you who unless you join us and come back to our base," he said. "Please. Now more than ever, we need more young people that can join us. More and more Reapers and suspected Reapers are popping up, in every Nation. We're afraid now… that it had begun."

"What's begun?" Chikorita asked.

Krookodile met her eyes with a gaze full of seriousness and fear. "The end."

Chikorita stepped away from him. "I'm going to find my own way home," she said. Krookodile opened his mouth to interject, but she stopped him. "I don't want to be a part of whatever crazy war you and your group of Wardens or whatever is fighting. I just want to go home."

Krookodile's mouth was still open in protest, but he closed it and sighed. "I can see that fire in your eyes," he said. "You won't consider anything I have to say and we'll be going around in circles for hours. We could have used a warrior like you. And I think you would have been great friends with the other trainees."

Chikorita looked at Krookodile for a moment more. She realized with a start how deep and aged his eyes were, and how tired he looked from a life of hardship. "Goodbye, Krookodile," she said. "And tell Tyrunt that too when he wakes up."

Krookodile nodded. "Goodbye, Chikorita," he said. "May your life be virtuous."

Chikorita turned, and without looking back, bounded into the darkness of the forest.

It didn't take her long to realize that she should have stayed back at the cave and broken Tyrunt's heart in the light and in front of his face. It would have been better than traversing in the dark as she did now, unable to even see where she was going. Every tree that she passed looked the same, every bush, ever fern, all of them were the same plant over and over again. The moon was still high in the sky when she realized that she didn't even know if she was going in a straight line anymore. What was that, behind her? A rustle? Or was it just the wind? She didn't know, and thought correctly that she would never know.

Bounding through the forest, she finally skidded to a halt at the edge of a black river. There was a canopy of trees over her now, and only a minimal amount of moonlight shone through them. It was that minimalistic light that showed her the river, dark as the rest of the sky. Its rapids ran to her left, and she thought that, for a moment, she might be able to follow it somewhere. It was that momentary thought that led her to do so. She began to walk, following in the direction that it flowed, watching as it continued as a strong current that would sweep away anything that came in its path.

But that following did not last long in the night. Thunder clapped above her head, causing her to jump. The sky flashed in a blaze of blue, just before a torrent of rain began to come down upon her. In her haste to find shelter for the storm, she left the dark river behind, going deeper and deeper into the forest. She thought that she hadn't gone too deep, when the reality was that she didn't think she was ever going to see the river again. At last, she found a canopy so thick that not even the rain could touch it. As for the lighting, she had no idea. For all she knew she would never wake up the next morning, burned to a crisp by a fire that had begun while she was in her deep slumber. A part of her almost wanted something like that to happen, but she forced the thought out before it could grow. She realized, strangely, that she had been pushing a lot of unwelcome thoughts out of her head lately. She just hoped the negativity wouldn't kill her.

She curled up against a tree and, without thinking, began to cry. What a shitty day. And what a shitty night, as well. As she huddled there, crying beneath the canopy that protected her from the rain, hopelessness grabbed her. She fell asleep that night with her mind sinking into a deep depression. She was filled with despondency, unaware of the small glimmer of hope that had just come into her world. Many miles away, in Ivy City, capital of the Grass Nation, Chikorita's father woke up.


	20. Charmander VIII

**Charmander**

Moonlight slanted in through the windows of Piplup's house. Charmander sighed, resting his head on his other hand. They'd been waiting for word of Empoleon's condition for hours. In that time, they'd been discussing whatever they could, filling up the silence that echoed within the house with voices that said whatever they could. Piplup had told them in more detail of his brother's demise, and there had been more tears. But they had been dried long ago, and now all they did was sit wherever they could, waiting for any word that there was on Empoleon's condition or the fate of the Fire Nation trainees.

The table Charmander sat at had two chairs at it, both facing one another. Across from him was Piplup, whose flipper was also holding up his head. He had a pen in his grasp, which he was spinning around and around, a way for him to keep his mind on something other than the fate of his father or his friends. Charmander turned his head, his gaze shifting to the brown couch that Torchic and Froakie sat on. Well, _Froakie_ sat on it. Torchic, meanwhile, was sprawled out, taking up a large space of the couch. Her tired eyes met Charmander's. She looked like, if they didn't get any word soon, her eyelids would falter.

Seeing Torchic so exhausted made Charmander realize how tired he was as well. His eyelids began to slip down, lower and lower. He wanted to sleep, he truly did, but he was also afraid of the sleep. Afraid of the dreams that might come with it; of his father fighting Senator Garchomp, of getting killed by him, of blood flowing through the Red Desert as the Ground Nation cheered, and their troops began to storm into Furnace. He could see blood in the streets of the city, could see people running as Ground Nation troops attacked from the ground and the roofs, and could see death engulf the city. He could also see Tepig, cowering in fear, darkness around him. Then, suddenly, a burst of light that came from all around him, one that engulfed him as he screamed, screamed, screamed…

"Charmander!"

Charmander snapped his head up. For a moment, he saw only darkness. Then it cleared, and he saw Piplup staring at him, concerned. "You alright?" he asked. Charmander looked over his shoulder to see that Torchic and Froakie were both looking at him with an equal amount of worry.

"Why?" Charmander asked. "Did I… did I say something?"

"You were muttering in your sleep," Torchic said. "You were saying something about Tepig."

"Yeah," Charmander said, rubbing his head. There was a small, pulsating pain in the back of his skull that felt less like a headache and more… well, he wasn't even sure how to describe it. Almost _light_ in a way. "It was just a nightmare," he continued. "Furnace, it-"

Before Charmander could say anything more, Feraligatr burst in through the front door, accompanied by an unfamiliar figure. Piplup turned swiftly, and before he could ask if his father was okay, Feraligatr put up his hand to silence him. "He's going to be fine," the Water Nation Senator said.

Relief washed over Piplup's face. Froakie, meanwhile, was staring at the other figure. The other figure had his arms crossed. His pale white stomach resembled the color of the moonlight. His pink eyes stared at Froakie, and his blue body, though darker than Froakie's, vaguely resembled it. He had webbed feet and webbed hands. "Dad," Froakie said, and Charmander felt like an idiot for taking as much time as he did to figure out who this new figure was. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to take you home," the figure said.

"So… so everything _is_ okay?" Torchic asked. "Charmander and I, we'll be able to go home soon?"

Froakie's father looked over at Feraligatr with a mixture of concern and embarrassment. Feraligatr met his gaze, then sighed. "It's fine," he said. "I'll tell them."

Feraligatr swung his large head around the room, meeting the gaze of all of the trainees that stared at him. Charmander saw that he seemed to look at Torchic for a bit too long, and he shuddered. He didn't want any more conflict, not when this day had been so long and so full of loss. But Feraligatr spoke, and only of Empoleon. "He's alive," he said. "That's for sure. While they were walking him into the hospital, the tape that was holding his stomach together tore open. The medics had to enact an emergency procedure, had to put him under with whatever it is they use. I'm not going to pretend like I know what they did. All I know is that if he wakes up, he's going to be fine."

"If?" Piplup asked, his voice suddenly filled with anger.

"Yes, if," Froakie's father interjected. "There's an eighty percent chance that he'll wake up and be fine, we're all quite sure of it. But… but we never truly know for certain."

Piplup sat back down at the table and turned away from them, towards Charmander. He was looking at the table, his mouth agape, his face filled with a horrible knowing that the day wasn't over yet, and a yearning for it to finally be so. Charmander glanced back up at the Water Nation warriors, who were looking at Piplup with concern. Suddenly, Feraligatr stepped forward. He bent down next to Piplup and wrapped an arm around him.

"He is going to be fine," Feraligatr said. "Hardships come and go, even when the memories remain. Sure enough, Piplup, this will all be a memory that will fade into the past. Your father is the greatest, toughest warrior I've ever seen in this Nation. He's not going to let something like this drag him down."

"But you can't make any promises," Piplup said. "I just… I just want this day to be over."

"We all do," Feraligatr agreed. "And soon enough, it will be."

The Water Nation Senator stood, surveying the room, his back to Charmander and Piplup. "Froakie," he said, his eyes landing on the Water Nation trainee, "you are to go back to your house with Greninja."

"Okay," Froakie said, looking around at the rest of the trainees. "But what about them?"

"I'm going to have them stay here," Feraligatr said. "Guards will be posted outside of the door, as a precaution."

"Why don't they just come back with us?" Froakie persisted.

It was Greninja, his father, who answered him. "Because," he said, "we're trying to avoid any of the citizens getting suspicious as to why two Fire Nation trainees are in Aquarius. Everyone is practically out on the streets right now, since word's gotten around that Empoloen was gravely injured." Greninja then turned, and began to address Charmander and Torchic directly. "Sneaking you two out of this house would be a nightmare, and getting caught would be an even bigger one. This is for your protection, and the protection of the Water Nation."

Feraligatr suddenly burst out laughing. Greninja looked over at him. "What?" he asked.

"Greninja," Feraligatr said, "you sound like you're making some sort of official statement to the Council!"

A smile touched Greninja's lips. "Is this not how I usually speak?"

"Never mind," Ferlaigatr said. He went on to address the trainees. "We just don't want any of you to be hurt, that's all."

Piplup nodded. "Okay," he said. "Yeah, I get it." He turned towards the Fire Nation trainees. "You two can sleep in Empoleon's room, if you want," he said.

Charmander nodded, and Torchic nodded her agreement. Charmander knew that it would be safer for them to sleep in the same room, so as not to be separated if something happened.

Feraligatr nodded. "It's settled, then," he said. "Froakie, you will go home with your father. The rest of you, stay here. Guards will be posted soon. For now… just don't leave. Not that I really expect any of you to."

Froakie looked back at the trio that stood before him. Charmander could see regret in his eyes, and knew that, if it were him in that same position, he too wouldn't feel so good about leaving the house without the rest of them either. "Well, I guess I'll see you guys tomorrow," Froakie said.

Piplup nodded. "Yeah," he said, and that was all.

Greninja escorted Froakie out of the house. Feraligatr watched them go. He turned back to the trio of trainees that stood before him. "Get a good night's sleep," he urged. "We don't know what tomorrow brings."

Feraligatr was about to turn around and be on his way, but Charmander heard his own voice leap up from the silence. "Why were you so afraid of our father's being dead?"

Piplup cringed a bit, and Torchic's eyes widened. Even Charmander felt a bit surprised. _Did I say that?_ He thought. He had, he realized, without even thinking of the words prior to them rising to his lips. He felt his spine grow cold as Feraligatr slowly turned to face him. But that coldness went away when he saw the saddened, strange look on Feraligatr's face. He sighed, swinging his big head from side to side. "They're dead," he said, "and that makes this whole thing so much more difficult. There could be accusations that the Water Nation kidnapped you, or that we killed your parents."

"But none of that's true!" Charmander burst out.

"It doesn't matter," Feraligatr said sadly. "I think, when we finally decide what to do with you, it will just be to drop you at the gates of Furnace with a false story to tell the Council. It's the only way, I'm afraid, to avoid conflict. And even then, it's not guaranteed to work."

There was silence as Feraligatr seemed to wait for someone to respond. When no one did, he continued. "I want to see you two get home. But I don't know how possible that will be. Torchic, you were right. I was acting hasty in my judgement of you two. I think it for the best that we get you home without any conflict ensuing. The Water Nation… I need it to stay strong, after what's already happened today…"

Feraligatr trailed off. He looked around hurriedly at the trio, then left the house, lumbering away into the night.

Piplup sighed. "He _does_ mean well," he said. "Everything he does, he does it for the good of the Water Nation. He just doesn't want to see another bloodbath that results in us losing. Which, well, after today, if pretty possible."

"I know," Charmander said, nodding. "He's just doing what he has to."

"Exactly."

The group sat around for an hour or so more, not talking about much in particular. Charmander was still thinking of the dream he'd had when he drifted off, and was thankful that Piplup had forgotten to ask him anything about it. He didn't want to discuss the possibility that one of his friends was dead, all because of some stupid dream that he'd had. Then again, the dream had felt so real. He guessed it had to do with his exhaustion. He was better off going to bed early that night.

He was thankful to not be the first one to speak up, as he didn't want to make it seem like he was in charge of the goings-on of Piplup's household. Piplup stretched and yawned, and declared that he was going to bed. He started for the stairs, with Torchic trailing close behind him, Charmander close behind her. Piplup pointed to his left down the hall. "That room," he said, "all the way down is my dad's. There's a big enough bed in there for the both of you."

Charmander nodded his thanks, and Piplup nodded back. As Piplup was going into his room, Charmander called him back. Piplup looked over his shoulder. "Thank you," Charmander said. "Just… for this."

Piplup nodded. "Yeah," he said. He went into his room and shut the door hard. Charmander heard a lock click.

He turned towards Torchic, who was already heading down the hallway. Charmander followed. She looked up at the doorknob, which was a bit higher than their heads. She looked at him expectantly, ruffling her feathers as she did so. Charmander smiled. "What would you do without me?" he asked, jumping up and opening the door as he did so.

"Easy; learn to open doors with my hands," she said, a wide grin on her face. Charmander chuckled at that as they stepped into the bedroom.

Piplup was right and then some; the bed would have been able to fit all four of them and a few others on it with enough room left over to comfortably shift position in the middle of the night without waking anyone up. It could have fit more than just Empoleon, which, Charmander realized with a tug at his heart, meant that he had shared this bed with his wife, hadn't he?

Torchic jumped into the bed first, the blue covers fluttering as she buried herself in them. She smiled. "This is nice," she said.

Charmander joined her, pushing away the covers so he could tuck himself in beneath them. The bed was soft, as were the covers. It was, he thought, like being tucked into a cloud. He sighed and snuggled his head into his pillow. He closed his eyes, but before he could fall asleep, Torchic spoke up.

"Charmander?"

"Yes," he asked, opening his eyes as he did so.

"Has today been one day?"

Charmander looked down at himself, almost feeling embarrassed. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, it has."

Torchic nodded, then closed her eyes. Charmander saw a tear fall from one of them and track its way down her cheek. Awkwardly, he pushed himself forward and held her. She snuggled into him, and he was glad for the warmth of her body. He held her like that all night, as the moon shone down upon the world, and its light illuminated all.


	21. Tepig II

**Tepig**

Hate was a four letter word, and it was a word that continued to circle Tepig's mind as he and his companions listened to the chaos that was ravaging the world above them. The darkness was something that they didn't have to worry about. The flame on Monferno's tail and the fire that engulfed Ponyta's body were permanent, and even after Quilava's strength faded and he had to put out his flame, his friends kept the light alive. But it was only the physical light. Above them and within them lay a creeping darkness that got ever closer as the sounds of the battle above became louder.

Tepig's heart wasn't racing, but almost seemed to be slowing. He hadn't expected to feel… to feel almost _calm_ in a situation like this. He'd expected to have a panic attack, and a part of him even hoped wildly that the will to live would finally make its resurgence, lurching itself back into his mind. But that didn't happen. In fact, the sounds above him sounded like a crazy kind of welcoming, the trumpeting of his death and the fact that no one would remember who he was, just another nameless, faceless soldier. Just another victim of a futile war.

But no, he realized; not if Charmander and Torchic and Fennekin were still alive. _They_ would remember him if he were to fall today. But he found that he didn't particularly care. It was as if a part of him were empty and brooding for no reason, but that there was a reason hidden within.

 _Arceus dammit, I can't even accurately describe how I feel to myself_ , he thought. His eyes were trained on a dark corner of the room, his ears trained on the darkness above where the echoes of war howled. He sighed and shook his head. "Useless," he muttered, not expecting anyone to hear.

But Ponyta had, and jerked her head up at his voice. "What?" she asked.

Tepig sighed, suddenly feeling a swell of heated emotion rise up in him. "All of this is useless!" he declared. He began to speak with a rapidity he'd never spoken with before, and it almost scared him the way words poured out of his mouth like a river of confession. "The war, the fighting, all of it is just so damn _useless_! Do any of you know why we're fighting the war in the first place? Does anyone actually know how this thing got started, and why we've decided to segregate ourselves into our own pockets of the world? Why the hell would we decide separating ourselves from one another was a good idea?"

"Well what do you want us to do about it?" Ponyta shouted. Tepig looked at her, and for a moment, he almost had no idea who she was. Then reality came crashing back down on him, and he realized that what he'd said had been said out loud. He looked towards Monferno and Quilava who were slouched side by side against the stone wall. Both of them were looking at Tepig, shocked and wary. Tepig realized that Monferno had his arm out, as though he were willing to attack Tepig if it came to that.

Tepig let out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry," he said, getting control of himself. "I'm sorry. I just don't want to be down here anymore. Being in the darkness… it just sucks. But everything just feels so… so hopeless. There's no light down here, no way for anything to shine back through from another side. It's just... it's just so damn awful."

There was silence, and Tepig was sure that Ponyta was about to berate him again. He looked down, not wanting to meet the gazes of any of his companions, sure that he had made a fool of himself. He felt an electric shock when Monferno's hand came to rest on his back. Tepig whirled around and saw in his eyes the truest empathy that he'd seen from anyone he'd ever met.

"It's hard, when shit like this happens," Monferno admitted. "When everything is dark, and all the hope just drains away. And sometimes that feeling is always going to be there, lingering in the back of the mind. But maybe… maybe it _can_ go away. Maybe there's the hope that one day, you'll be able to find something to live for that brings you back out of the darkness and into the light. So you can finally fly free."

Tepig stared into Monferno's eyes. He didn't know Monferno as well as Ponyta (and maybe about as much as Quilava), but hearing what he'd said lit a spark in Tepig's heart. He looked at Monfero, then nodded. And that nod felt meaningful, in a way, like it was the confirmation that Monferno was right. Did it help? Not much, no. He still felt the darkness clawing away at him, its nails sinking deep into him. But it was alright, for now. Because Monferno had managed to instill in him something he hadn't felt in a long time; hope.

Monferno smiled and patted Tepig on the shoulder. "Now rest, guys," he said. "We shouldn't have to worry right now." He shuffled back through the darkness and rested next to Quilava once again. Quilava looked at him and smiled, and Monferno smiled back.

Tepig turned his attention back to Ponyta, who was looking at him with sympathetic eyes. "I'm not going to pretend like I know how it is to lose someone," she confessed. "But if you do want to talk to someone, I'm still here."

Tepig nodded and forced a smile. "Thanks," he said, hoping that it sounded genuine. It wasn't that he didn't want Ponyta's help; it was that he just wanted to deal with the darkness alone. Not the best way to go about things, he admitted to himself, but it was what felt like the most progressive way to go.

"Well," Quilava spoke up, "what do you guys want to do now?"

Tepig looked up. The sounds of battle seemed to be getting closer. "I guess we just wait and see what happens," he admitted. "It doesn't sound like things will be dying down anytime soon."

Quilava sighed and leaned towards Monferno, his head resting on his companion's shoulder. Monferno did not shake him off, and from the small smile that crept across Quilava's face, he seemed pleased by this. There was silence for a while, save for the battle that raged above in its alien isolation. Pontya then turned to face Tepig. "I know you're worried about them," she said.

Tepig sighed. "Yeah," he said. "I just don't want them to die."

"Well no one wants _that_!" Ponyta said. "I hope they're not here, though. I don't want to see them get killed."

"Yeah," Tepig said, his mind conjuring up images of Fennekin, torn apart by Ground Nation troops, her guts spilled across the brick paths of Furnace. He gulped and forced the visions from his mind. No; he wouldn't let possible futures cloud the here and now. He continued; "I hope they kill them all, though."

"Who?" Ponyta asked, inquisitive. "Ground Nation?"

"Water," Tepig said, feeling the heat of anger rise within him. "I hope all those bastards die for what they did."

"Isn't that a little hypocritical?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, just a few minutes ago you advocated for the end of the war. But now you're singing its praises as long as the result that _you_ want is the one that happens."

Before Tepig could try to rebut her argument (in his honest mind, what he was thinking was not hypocrisy, but rather a call that he felt had to be made by someone, and why shouldn't it be him?), there was silence. Tepig felt his heart grow ice-cold as all sound above them suddenly halted. It was like standing in a graveyard.

"What the hell?" Monferno said. Quilava took his head off his shoulders and looked up, his face filled with worry.

All at once, the fighting started again. But this time, it didn't feel like a regular fight. Then, Tepig felt the first tremor. His eyes widened as he realized what the implication of it was. Ponyta's face was filled with fear as she too realized what the tremor indicated.

"Oh no," Quilava said. "Oh, no, no, Arceus, please!"

 _BOOM!_ The stone room vibrated once more.

Ponyta ran for a corner of the room. Tepig followed suit, knowing that if he wasn't going to make it, then he had to at least make sure Ponyta did. She had her mother, and Tepig… well, what did he have to lose? It was that quick, split-second thought that led to him nuzzling his body close to Ponyta's. "You'll be okay," Tepig said. "I'll protect you."

"No," Ponyta pleaded, tears streaming down her face. "I don't want you to die! _I_ don't want to die!" Suddenly, realization dawned on her, and she began to cry harder.

 _BOOM!_ The sound of a building collapsing echoed through the room.

"Screw it!" Quilava shouted. Suddenly, he pressed himself against Monferno, and, with a quick motion, kissed him. It only lasted a moment, but in that moment, Monferno's face went from shock to pure relief. Quilava pulled back, and Tepig could hear even from where he was the words that Quilava whispered; "I love you."

Monferno pulled him in and embraced him, their lips together once more. It was in that loving embrace that they stayed as the world began to crumble around them.

Ponyta spoke in quick gasps. "I don't wanna die," she said, and continued to say, repeating it over and over again as though it were going to make a difference. "I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die, I don't wanna-!"

 _BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!_

Tepig couldn't hear his scream over the ringing in his ears as the room burst into whiteness. For a moment, he felt like he was floating, and he was positive that this was what death must have felt like. If that was the case, then death must have felt great to those that had fully experienced it. But, for Tepig, it was only a preview.

Tepig crashed back down to Earth, feeling pain in his side. He turned himself upwards, and fixed his eyes on the night sky above. The moon was hanging directly over him, dangling above him like some sort of strange temptation. Perhaps, on the moon, it was more peaceful.

The ringing in his ears took a minute or so to fully subside, but Tepig was okay with that. He felt content with just sitting there, envying the moon, feeling jealously at how high up it could be, so far from the toils and turmoil of the real world.

Then the real world did come crashing back in.

Tepig sat up, looking right in the face of a Gabite. This only lasted a moment before its head was lobbed off by a large pulse of light. Standing behind it was Braixen, her face determined and hard, a stick in her hand, the one that she would always keep in her tail, and the one that could help to channel her inner power. She held it as she ran over to Tepig. Tepig looked into her eyes, seeing an unexpected kindness in them. "You alright, kid?" she asked.

Tepig, dazed, tried to nod, but was too distracted by cries behind him. Then, the cries came fully into focus, and he felt dread mount in his chest. "Monferno!" Quilava's voice screamed in fear and grief. "Monferno, c'mon, no, please, wake up!"

Tepig turned himself over as much as he could, and saw the duo not twenty yards away. Quilava was pushing at Monferno's motionless body, screaming. Tepig saw a shadow cross his vision, then saw Braixen running over towards the two of them. She pulled out her stick, which pulsed with light. "I'll have to get his heat started again," she said. "Stand back."

Quilava backed away, and Braixen raised the stick. She began to fire pulses of energy at Monferno's chest, with small _thwump_ 's accompanying each pulse. _Thwump! Thwump! Thwump!_

Tepig rolled over to his right, feeling his vision blur and his mind fog up. He jumped back, though, startled and sick, when he saw Ponyta. In place of her head was a bloodied chunk of rock. Her body lay beyond it, twitching as the last of her nerves began to stop functioning. Tepig felt like he was about the throw up.

Then, the even larger prospect hit him; this crater that he was now in was supposed to be the basement of the capitol. Then that meant…

 _Anyone can die and anything can burn_ , he thought. _Some of us just wish that wasn't the case_.

His vision faded. The last thing that he saw was Ponyta's squashed head, and the last thing he heard was the incessant attempts at bringing Monferno back from the dead.

 _Thwump! Thwump! Thwump!_


	22. Piplup VI

**Piplup**

 _Thwump! Thwump! Thwump!_

Piplup put his flipper up to his head. His brain felt as though it were about to burst from his skull. Sighing, he sat up in bed, his feet dangling just inches above the floor. He rubbed his eyes, then put his flippers down in defeat. _Dammit_ , he thought. _Why the hell didn't yesterday end with the sunset?_

It had for many, but not for Piplup. The night had been a dreary one, one filled with restless nightmares and awful images of what could have been; of Empoleon having his stomach ripped open, of his intestines spilling on the floor, of his shrieks as his blood flowed through his open chest…

Piplup shook his head, which didn't really help with his headache. He sat on the bed for a moment more, his eyes closed, his nostrils open as he breathed in the scent of the morning. It was nothingness.

Piplup plopped off the bed, landing shakily on his webbed feet. He walked forward, almost like a newborn, but managed to find his balance. It didn't help that the edges of his vision were blurry, and that his morning coordination was crap as it was. Still, though, he walked down the hall to his father's room, and opened it up just a crack.

The Fire Nation trainees were still asleep. Piplup felt a jab of envy piece his heart when he saw them. Charmander had his arms wrapped around Torchic, who was nuzzled into his chest, a look of security on her face. Piplup had known it as they were coming into the city, but this had all but confirmed a possible future for the two Fire Nation trainees. Still, though…

He dismissed his personal thoughts of lust and closed the door. They were happy and that was that. Besides, it wasn't as if a wonderful girl would just plop themselves on his doorstep. Life didn't work like that; you made friends, and some of them just became more than friends.

Piplup waddled back into his room. He crouched down, peering underneath his mattress. For a quick instant, he thought that Froakie or perhaps one of the Fire Nation trainees in the other room had stolen it, or that he'd perhaps misplaced it and it would end up lost forever. But no, it was still there; the red notebook with the word "JOURNAL" scrawled on it in Piplup's atrocious handwriting. His father often joked that, if someone received a letter from Piplup, it would look like it was coming from someone without any fingers. Which was true, but even still, he could've done a better job with his handwriting.

Carefully, he slid the journal out from underneath his bed. He placed it in his lap and took the pen out of the spiral. He flipped through it, admiring yet dreading all that he saw. All of the vents and rambles that echoed in his mind throughout the day went into this journal. This journal was one of the few things in the world that kept him sane. Whenever he was in possession of it, he felt its safety like a blanket. Yes, that was it; it was his safety blanket.

Slowly, Piplup made his way downstairs, making a beeline for the kitchen. When he arrived there, he plopped himself down in one of the chairs, opened up the journal to a fresh page, and began to write:

 _Piplup's Journal- Day 96_

 _A lot happened yesterday. My brother; memories of him are coming back again. I was just in my first battle after he died, and it's been tough. Just ask Froakie about that. I feel like he's taking the brunt of my verbal beatings, and I feel bad about it, I really do. But I just can't stop myself from doing that. Sometimes I hate myself, but it's the thought that, one day, I'll do something that makes_ him _hate me that makes me wish I could just stop._

 _I think that he understands, though. He hasn't decided I'm not worthy of being his friend yet anyway, so I guess that's a plus. I also kind of admitted to him that I'm an atheist. I'm not sure how he's taking that one, since religion is such a popular thing here. But if it hasn't affected him yet, I'm pretty sure I'm in the clear. I'm not going to bring it up, though, just in case he's just forgotten about it. I hope he forgets. I don't need Pokémon running around telling everyone that the son of a prestigious Council member doesn't even believe in Arceus._

 _Religion just seems so… dumb, I guess. I get that people take comfort in Arceus, but sometimes I just find myself asking; what has Arceus done for me? Well, let's see; he's killed my mother, my brother, and nearly my father, sent my best friend's mother away, and, to top it all off, brought in members of another Nation to Aquarius. Gee, great, fantastic work there, Arceus. And sometimes I wonder… why? Why do all of these terrible things? Why cause the deaths of thousands? Is it because of entertainment? Maybe. I dunno. Sometimes…_

Piplup hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should finish the thought or just scrap the page completely. After a moment, he put the pen back down on the paper.

… _I think that, if Arceus is real, he's a sick bastard._

 _I'm done with that subject. I don't even know why I write about it when it makes me so damn uncomfortable. Anyway, I guess we'll move on to a more… interesting topic. The Fire Nation trainees, Charmander and Torchic. I'm not sure what to make of them. I think they love each other, but something tells me that neither of them knows it yet. Is that weird? Maybe. I dunno. Still, something's up between them. Maybe they're just childhood friends?_

 _But still, it's so weird having them here. It feels almost like the Nation's being infiltrated and no one knows it. Because, in reality, only a select few know they're even here. Maybe it is for the better, like Feraligatr and Greninja said. But still, I can't help but feel like the abnormality of this situation is just… something. I don't know how to describe it, really._

Piplup looked at the paper hard, wondering what the hell kind of exhaustion-driven train of thought he was going on. He sighed, putting the pen back down on the paper, just scribbling, letting random words from his mind flow out onto the page.

 _I miss him, Prinplup. After today, I think I know who to blame for his death. Not Empoleon; me. I could have saved him. Damn, do I wish I was in his place right now. Dad loved him more than he'll ever love me. Prinplup was strong and brave and charismatic. But me… I don't serve a purpose._

 _A few days ago, I stole some rope from the sewing shop down the street. No one knows it was me, and I was hesitant to put it in this just in case my dad finds it while snooping around. But whatever, who gives a shit. I've been thinking about it for a long time now, pretty much ever since he died. I've got it tied, and I've slipped it around my neck once. I don't know how well it would go, though. I keep thinking; what if I choke myself and I pass out, only to wake up with permanent brain damage and everyone I love treating me as if I'm dead?_

 _Oh forget it, what the hell am I thinking? I can't kill myself. Not with my dad getting better. He will get better, that's what Feraligatr said, but I'm still not too sure. I think-_

"What's that?"

Piplup looked up and slammed the journal shut in one swift motion. Torchic looked at him, alarmed a bit, then looked down at the notebook. "Oh," she said. "Sorry. I didn't realize you were writing in that."

"Just promise not to look at it," he said, cringing at how desperate he sounded.

But Torchic smiled. "I won't," she promised. She sat down in the chair across from him. Piplup sighed, looking beyond her. She spoke up after a few moments of silence. "I know you're worried," she said. "But he'll be better, just like Feraligatr said.

"I guess so," Piplup said, tapping his pen against the notebook. "I just wish I could have… ugh, nevermind." He looked back and chucked the pen across the kitchen. It bounced off the wall and landed in the sink. He turned back to Torchic and looked her in the eyes. "I'm done," he said, and suddenly, his words had a hint of finality in them. "I'm done living in the past. My brother is gone, and maybe… maybe I wasn't to blame."

"There's no 'maybe' about it," Torchic said. "You're just as much to blame for Prinplup's death as… as I am my father's." She cleared her throat, but her emotions remained steady. "Just remember, no matter what happens, when you don't have the power, you're _not_ responsible."

There was a sudden scream outside.

Torchic looked over at the door, then back at Piplup. She stood up and darted towards the door. She opened it up, jumping in the air, her claw flashing out and coming down on the handle. The door slowly began to creak open. She pushed her way out, and was outside before Piplup could even get there.

When he was finally outside, the light of the morning nearly blinded him. It took him a moment to get used to the light, and when he did, he saw what it was everyone on the street was making a big deal about. Encircled in a crowd of people was a tiny green ball. And the ball was alive.

Suddenly, heads began to turn towards Piplup, and suddenly, angry shouts echoed through the streets. It took Piplup a moment to realize why everyone was so upset. Then he turned and saw that they were not angered at him, but at Torchic.

It was in that moment that Piplup knew yesterday was not the end. No. Yesterday was merely the beginning.


	23. Torchic II

**Torchic**

Eyes. Eyes bore into her and she felt their cold gaze against her skin. Torchic began to back away from the glaring crowd. At first, their eyes had been on whatever was lying on the ground a few feet from her. She hadn't been able to get a good look at it, but it seemed to be a light green color, moving up and down as though breathing. The realization that whatever it was actually _was_ breathing came to her just as the crowd began to glare, jeer, and move at her. And then, in less than a second, she realized herself, and her mistake.

"What the hell is _she_ doing here?" she heard someone shout. Then, the words of all of them began to surround her, wavering in her ears as they started as furious murmurs and built up to spiteful comments. She couldn't make out one single voice, but she knew what they were saying. Eyes watched her, and all of them accused her of something, of a crime that didn't even exist. The more that she listened, though, the more hate-filled words her ears were able to pull from the crowd.

"What kind of a world do we live in, where spies can just wander on into our cities and do whatever they please?"

"She came out of that house with Piplup. I bet she's some stinking whore-child!"

"We need to seize her and bring her to the Council at once!"

"To hell with the Council! Someone cut her throat!"

"Enough!"

That one voice, filled with more power than the rest of them combined, vibrated through the open air. Torchic watched in awe as all of the voices, all at once, became mute. She watched, unbelieving, as the crowd parted, as though making way for an important figure. And perhaps this figure was important. He strutted over, his thin, long brown legs moving him forward. His head looked almost boomerang shaped, though much fatter in the center, where his two brown eyes watched her, unblinking. Could he blink? Torchic didn't think so. But that didn't matter, as it wasn't the only oddity of his appearance. Dark brown spines lined his back, moving downward to his fair-sized rigid tail. Even stranger was his arms; they were short, but at the end of each of them were not hands, rather long, shiny blades. They were sickle-shaped and bits of red were observable on them, but either way, they still glinted like silver in the sunlight.

The figure turned and looked at the crowd, addressing them and them alone with his fierce, powerful voice. "She is merely a child! You talk of killing her when she's probably only been in a few battles in your lifetime. And why?"

There was silence. The figure growled. "Well, come on! I wouldn't ask a question just to answer it for you. Why, you weak-hearted fools? Why?"

A young Blastoise spoke up. "With all due respect, Sir Kabutops," the young Pokémon said, "we're all just a little on edge right now. What with Empoleon being injured and Feraligatr and Greninja going into his house and then placing guards there… well, none of us have any idea what's going on. We're… we're afraid, I guess. Guys?"

The crowd nodded and murmured agreements.

Kabutops stared into them. Torchic couldn't see his face, but from the look of the crowd, it told her that his eyes were somehow able to bore into the very souls of each and every one of them. "So," Kabutops said in a mocking tone, and Torchic could envision the smile that was probably on his face. "You were afraid? Is that it? So afraid of this Fire Nation trainee who's done nothing but back away from your jeers? Oh, _so_ afraid of this trainee! So much so that she should _die_ because we _fear_ her!"

Crowd members began to duck their heads in shame, their eyes not able to meet Kabutops' piercing gaze. But it seemed that Kabutops was having fun with this, and that it was only just beginning. "You're all like children, you know? Children, all of you. I mean, Arceus, you see one flash of red or yellow or brown and all of a sudden you're on edge thinking that it's the end of the world and that the only way to solve the problem is to chop of its head. You do realize how foolish that is, correct?"

Another member of the crowd spoke up. "We were just trying to protect ourselves."

Kabutops laughed for a few seconds at that. It was a deep, hearty laugh, genuine in every sense of the word. When it was finished, he locked his eyes on everyone in the crowd. Some began to squirm under his gaze, but they also seemed to be entrapped by it, unable to move from where they stood. It was like hypnosis. "Protect yourselves! Oh, dearie me! Protect yourselves from this-" Kabutops swung his arm out and pointed one long blade at Torchic- "dangerous menace to our city!"

Kabutops turned back to the crowd. The crowd was like a group of schoolchildren being scolded by their teacher. But now all was silent, and the class had no idea whether or not to speak up. It was Kabutops, though, that broke the silence. "And you wonder why I resent all of you," he said almost thoughtfully. "Now step aside, and let's get to what we really came here for."

The crowd parted even further. Trochic could see it; the green ball _was_ alive, and it seemed to be unfurling. Torchic watched as a leaf appeared, then two red eyes, then four tiny stubs of legs. Finally, she saw her, the figure that had uncurled. She also saw Piplup just beyond the figure, staring in wide-eyed shock, just before Kabutops blocked him from her gaze. The whole crowd was shocked, unable to speak or to move, and Torchic realized she wasn't able to either.

"P-please," the figure begged. "I just want to go home."

Kabutops bent down by the figure and held out his blade. The figure flinched. "No," she whimpered. "No, anything but that!"

"Relax, child," Kabutops said, his voice soothing and calm now. "You're in Aquarius, the Water Nation capital. You're Chikorita, aren't you? Meganium's daughter?"

"Not anymore," he figure whose name was Chikorita responded. "Not after… not after."

"You can tell us," Kabutops said. "If we know what happened to you, we might be able to send word of you to the Grass Nation directly. But we need to know what happened."

Chikorita looked around at the crowd warily. When her eyes fell on Torchic, they hovered there for a moment, wrought with confusion. Chikorita opened her mouth, clearly about to ask a question. But, before she could, Kabutops touched her lightly on the shoulder. "Don't worry about anything but yourself right now," he said. "Just tell us what happened and… oh, no… it was… Rock Nation?"

Chikorita gasped. "How did you know that?" she asked, starting to tremble.

"Relax, child," a familiar voice said from behind Torchic. Torchic whirled around and saw Senator Feraliagtr standing not twenty feet behind her. She had no idea how he'd been able to sneak up on her like that with his lumbering, graceless walk, but nonetheless, he had. "No one is going to hurt you," he assured her. "We just need to know."

The crowd's attention was suddenly turned on Feraligatr. Questions flew from their mouths. Questions about the battle, questions about Torchic, questions about Chikorita, questions, questions, questions. Feraligatr let this go on for a few seconds. Then he raised his palm, signifying for everyone to be silent. And the crowd did go silent, almost as quick as they had for Kabutops. Almost.

"I know you're all confused and afraid right now," Feraligatr said. "I'll admit it, I am too. A lot's happened in the past twenty-four hours that a lot of us weren't prepared for. The Council wasn't prepared for this, not at all. But we will do our best to ensure safety, to both us, and to them." Feraligatr motioned towards Torchic and Chikorita, causing a spring of murmurs to bubble in the crowd. "I," Feraligatr continued, "am overseeing them. This is Torchic, a trainee of the Fire Nation, and that is Chikorita, a trainee of the Grass Nation. Inside of Empoleon's house is yet another Fire Nation trainee, named Charmander."

The crowd's fury was sparked once again. "Another one?" someone shouted over the angered drone. "Arceus, we can't just go around bringing whoever we want into the capital!"

"Quiet!" Feraligatr shouted. The crowd went deathly silent once again. Feraligatr cleared his throat, then continued. "We are not 'just bringing' anyone in. Charmander and Torchic saved Empoleon's life. They stitched him up, and when they ran out of string to use, they began to use tape."

"Bullshit!" someone shouted, causing more rabble to overtake the crowd. Torchic watched as the jeering continued, and she felt the urge to just curl up into a tiny ball and tell herself she would be okay until it was all over and she could go home, except that now that her father was dead, there wasn't a home to go back to.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!"

The shouted alarmed even Torchic, and caused Kabutops to jump far enough away from Chikorita for Piplup to enter Torchic's vision once again. Piplup's eyes were a storm of fury, and he looked around at his fellow Water Nation members. _Good Arceus_ , Torchic thought. _He looks like he's about to rip everyone apart_.

Piplup looked around at the crowd, turning his head to and fro as he spoke. "It's not easy," he said, "to believe that members of one Nation would help members of another if it wasn't for personal gain in the end. But I saw what happened with my own eyes, and if Froakie were here right now, he'd probably say the same thing I'm about to." Piplup pointed his flipper towards Torchic. "She and her friend," he continued. "They saved my father's life. Without them, he would be dead on that battlefield. They could have walked right on by and told me and Froakie to go screw ourselves, and to wish us a happy funeral, but they didn't. They _prevented_ a funeral. _They_ are the reason that Empoleon is still alive, and that soon, he's going to be back on his feet, proud and stout as he was before. So what the hell do any of you have to complain about that?"

"But… but why are they still here?" a crowd member asked.

Piplup looked up at Feraligatr, and in his eyes was an order; go along, and get your people thinking and talking again. Feraligatr saw this, and cleared his throat in response. His eyes met Torchic's and Torchic saw in them a sorrow that she didn't think she'd seen before. "I'm sorry that you have to find out this way," he said. Torchic's heart began to pump viciously. Was it about Tepig? Fennekin? Oh, she hoped they were okay. She didn't think she'd be able to handle another death.

Feraligatr sighed. "Furnace is in shambles," he said. "The parents of these two young ones are dead, Senators Charizard and Blaziken."

Gasps and murmurs rose up in the crowd, but silenced themselves quickly. The eyes were back on Torchic, but they weren't accusatory eyes, not this time. These eyes understood her to a point. These eyes realized their wrongs and saw the truth of the matter. And Torchic felt grateful, and thought that this feeling would be something she would remember during her time in the city, no matter how short (or, perhaps now, long) that would be.

"Furnace was also attacked horribly by the Ground Nation. Homes were burned, citizens raped and killed in the streets. And… and the capitol building is nothing but a crater."

Torchic felt her heart sink. Then she, too, was sinking, sinking to her knees, her mind only on Tepig and Fennekin, Tepig and Fennekin. "Tepig and Fennekin," she whispered even before she realized she'd said it.

"We have a list of casualties," Feraligatr said, "if you want me to read them."

"Yes," Torchic said, feeling tears stinging her eyes. _Dammit, don't cry again! You've done enough crying for two days, it's time to suck it up, dammit!_ But that didn't help.

Feraligatr looked at her sadly. "There was an old Great Warrior, Simisear that was killed when Ground Nation troops invaded the hospital. There were two, um, incidents with trainees. One was named Ponyta."

 _Ponyta!_ In all of her haste and her thinking of Tepig's mental struggles and Fennekin's being on the front lines she'd somehow forgotten all about Ponyta. And now she was dead, but it felt like next to nothing. As though it hadn't happened, or that it was happening a million miles away in a world that she would never see again. Would she see Furnace again? She didn't know. She doubted it now.

"And another one named Monferno," Feraligatr continued. "We don't know if he's dead or not, but… but it's a name that we've heard a lot?"

"Wait," Torchic asked, suddenly taken out of her grief by a realization she knew she should have made earlier. "How do you know all of this?"

"Fire Nation Council," he said. "They reached out to me about the incident, wanted me to know everything. That's the other piece of news as well. They don't want you and Charmander coming home yet. Another week or two, they said, since the city is in shambles."

"Wait so… so we _are_ going home?" she asked.

A smile flashed on Feraligatr's face. "It appears that way, yes."

Smiles presented themselves in the crowd.

Feraligatr then turned his attention towards Chikorita, who was still quivering like a feather in the wind. Feraligatr bent down face-to-face with her, his large jaws nearly at her face. She flinched and began to stretch her neck backwards, her eyes giving away how fearful she was of the immense size and power that emitted from this Water Nation Senator. "Do not be afraid, child," Feraligatr said soothingly. "Why have you come here?"

"Because…" Chikorita looked down sadly, though her eyes seemed to be searching the ground for something, as though she were contemplating whether or not to say something. Then, she looked up and wailed. "Because they're dead!"

The crowd began to murmur again, and suspicion began to creep back into them. Who was "they"? No one needed to ask Chikorita though, as she was already telling them what she had to offer. "Grass Nation," she said, "they're battling Rock Nation. I was injured, and… and I woke up in a cave. I was patched up, like I am now-" Torchic suddenly realized there _was_ a patch on her side "-and I was just… scared. I left the cave at night. I didn't want to be seen in the daylight, just in case Rock Nation was close. I followed a stream, and it started to rain, and I slept under a tree. I woke up before dawn and just kept going and… and here I am." She stared down at the ground as she continued. "They're dead though. Bayleef, my sister. Meganium, my father. Venusaur… he saved me…"

She stopped as her words became choked, and her eyes began to fill with tears. The crowd still murmured, looking at her, some with sympathy, and some with mistrust. Feraligatr pulled her in close as she continued to speak. "Please don't hurt me," she begged. "I didn't mean to be here. I just wanna go home."

"We won't hurt you," Feraligatr promised. "But you can't go home yet either. We'll send an ambassador of sorts out to Ivy City with word that you're here. We can keep you in with the others until you're set to leave. How does that sound?"

Chikorita looked up at Torchic. Their eyes met, and they stayed that way, unwavering. Torchic could see a similar pain to hers in Chikorita's eyes. It was like looking into a mirror, a mirror that reflected your eyes off of the faces of others. At last, Chikorita nodded, breaking their eye contact. "Okay," she said. "Alright."

"Good," Feraligatr smiled. He turned his attention to Piplup. "See to it that's she's settled and meets with the Fire Nation trainees. I'll stay here, and I'll answer any other questions."

Piplup nodded. He bent down, his knee on the ground, his flipper out in a gesture of friendship. Chikorita looked at his flipper for a moment, then hesitatingly took it. Piplup smiled, and Chikorita returned it. She stood, and Piplup led her inside. He looked over his shoulder. "Torchic," he said, "you comin'?"

Torchic realized that she felt almost rooted to the ground. She looked over at the crowd. All of them were surrounding Feraligatr, asking their questions one at a time. How he was able to control such a crowd was beyond her understanding, but she felt impressed that he was able to. The only Pokémon that didn't seem to have the need to ask anything was Kabutops. He stood behind the crowd, looking as though he were brooding.

Torchic bounded up to him, but he did not look in her direction. "Um, thank you," she said.

Kabutops acknowledged her with a nod. "It's not a problem," he said. "Just doing what's right."

Torchic nodded. "You're good at that," she said. Kabutops grimaced a bit when she said that, but she knew he might have been embarrassed by her praise. She left him alone, running towards the house, feeling as though eyes were following her even though she _knew_ they weren't.

Before she entered the house, though, she stopped and turned around. There was Feraligatr, still answering questions. At that moment, a thought popped into her head. How had Feraligatr gotten into contact so quickly with the Fire Nation Council, but had to send a representative that might take a week or two to get word from the Grass Nation.

Then, she realized that she'd been wrong before. Eyes _were_ watching her. They were the eyes of Kabutops, piercing and peering, as though they were trying to get a good look at her. Not her on the outside, but who she was. The _her_ her.

Shivering and suspicious, Torchic opened the door to Empoleon's house and stepped back inside. Something was not right, and something had to be done about it. Then again, it was better to be safe than sorry.


	24. Chikorita V

**Chikorita**

Chikorita's heart almost jumped out of her chest as the figure came down the stairs. At first, she thought that it wasn't supposed to be there, that it was an intruder of some sort. But after the initial sight of him, she relaxed. No, not an intruder. Not really. It was that other Fire Nation trainee that the Water Nation warriors outside had mentioned. His blue eyes gazed into her red ones, and she felt the need to avert them, though she could not. "Who's this?" the Fire Nation trainee questioned.

The blue one with the flippers (what was his name again?) responded. "This is, uh…" He looked over at her questioningly, and his eyes made her want to drop hers again. Why did everyone have to stare? More importantly, why was she feeling this fear now? Hadn't she been brave enough to roam into the forest at night, the only light to help her that of the conveniently full moon? Yes, but she had been alone then, holding in the back of her mind the hope that she would be able to find her way back home. When she was alone, she wasn't around anyone she couldn't trust. But now… now she was in the heart of enemy territory. Now she was around those that she couldn't trust. Now she wasn't alone. And perhaps that was the worst part.

"Hello?"

Chikorita shook her head, gazing into the eyes of the Pokémon with the blue flippers that stood before her. For a moment, she'd forgotten what he'd asked her, and panic seized her heart, threatening to leak tears from her eyes. But she breathed in deeply, then sighed it out. No. She would be safe, at least for a little while. She couldn't trust them, _wouldn't_ trust them, and she would probably turn out okay.

"Ch-Chikorita," she said, forcing her words out. She suddenly realized how thirsty she was, how the back of her throat felt as though she had just swallowed a bowlful of sand. "Could I… have some water?" she asked, feeling ashamed and miserable due to her need to rely on these strangers for something as simple as water.

The one with the blue flippers nodded. "Sure," he said, and he walked into the small kitchen that was still visible from where Chikorita stood. Her eyes then glanced around at the others that were there. There was the lizard-like one with the fire on his tail, and the one whose name she knew because the one with the blue-flippers had said it. Torchic. She would introduce herself, Chikorita realized, but she would already know her name. Why did that seem so important?

 _Because you've barely slept,_ she told herself. _It was the middle of the night when you curled up in the rain, and you got up before the sunlight was even visible in the sky. You've been walking for hours, too, and you're hurt, and you just need a place to sleep but how can you sleep when they're here and they're going to watch you sleep and they're going to watch watch watch watch watch watch-_

"Here you go!"

The friendly, concerned voice of the one with the blue flippers shook her from her inner… what? She needed sleep. Sleep and water. Water. That was what the one with the blue flippers was holding out to her, his face filled with a concern that almost seemed genuine.

 _Don't let your guard down. Don't._

"Thank you," she murmured as he set the bowl down in front of her.

The one with the blue flippers smiled. "No problem," he said. "If you'd like, I can put it on the table."

"No, this is fine," Chikorita said, though she longed to rest on something. "Thank you, um…" She trailed off, hoping that she'd get a name form him.

"Piplup," he said, smiling. Chikorita smiled back. But there was something wrong with that smile. Something that told her that this Piplup had been through hell and back, but not in the way that she had. He'd been there in his mind. He'd seen something that had messed him up, something that kept that smile from being more genuine than it was. And perhaps there was something wrong with her smile too, because concern was in his eyes as he flashed that smile. All of this passed through her head in less than an instant. In the next, she had turned towards the Fire Nation trainees.

"Charmander," the lizard one said.

"Torchic," said Torchic, and Chikorita couldn't help but nod.

They stood there in that moment, then, silent. There was a light commotion outside, but that only lasted a moment before it quickly ceased. The Water Nation Senator must have been calming the crowds. Soon the storm would pass, just as it had last night. But a large part of Chikorita knew that this storm would have much greater consequences.

"So," Charmander said, "what do we do now?"

"Well, Chikorita," Piplup said, his eyes falling on her again, "how did you… end up here, if you don't mind me asking?"

Chikorita gulped. It was a question she knew would be coming, but a large part of her really didn't want to answer it. _What are they going to do with this information anyway,_ she thought, _destroy the Grass Nation? That's probably already happened._

"It was," she said, then stopped, feeling junk stuck in her throat. She cleared it and began again:

"It was a week ago. Ivy City, the Grass Nation capital… it was attacked by the Rock Nation. Senator Rhyperior led it, and he invaded so suddenly, no one had time to think. Civilians were killed… children were killed… but we managed to push them back. They'd made a camp roughly two miles from the city, and it might have been just as big. At least, that's what we heard from those who infiltrated it. We were outnumbered in ever battle, and every day we lost more and more soldiers.

"Then… then there was yesterday. I was out there in the battle, my first time out there, and I wasn't concerned at all. All the time during the week I'd heard of the Rock Nation boasting about how they were going to take over Ivy City and kill everyone in it and it just didn't seem possible. They'd attacked before, and it had been bad, but we'd pushed them back! And…"

She found that she was unable to continue, partly because she didn't want these strangers to know what had happened to her family, and partly because they were all staring at her oddly. She glared at them, unable to help herself. "What?" she asked, hostility prevalent in her voice.

Piplup stepped close to her and raised a flipper. At first, she thought that he was about to strike her, and she tensed, ready, feeling a scream in the back of her mind that she had known it, that they weren't trustworthy and she should have followed her intuition and not talked and just stopped and Arceus did she want to sleep but they were here and they were going to hurt her she was so sure…

But he didn't. His flipper touched her face softly, and she shivered with how cold it was. She felt something wet, too, for the first time, and realized with a jolt what he was doing. And what _she_ had been doing as she talked. Piplup looked at her, and in that look she could see the words even before he said them: "It's okay, now."

She turned away, a huffing sound coming from her mouth as she tried to control her tears. But it wasn't going to work. _Come on!_ She heard the voice, and now it wasn't her voice in her head, but Bayleef's voice, the voice of a sister who she would never see speak to her again, the voice that she knew was going to haunt her for the remainder of her life. Bayleef. _Stop this crying! It's getting you nowhere! We all lose people!_

"Her father and sister," she heard Torchic say behind her. Yes, that was right. She'd said it in front of Piplup and Torchic before. Why would they want to know again? _They want to know_ more, she realized, _and I've just given it to them. Stupid!_

"Shut up!" she roared, except it really wasn't her, not the real Chikorita, but the exhausted, battered shell of herself that stood before these untrustworthy villains before her. "Just shut up!"

"Take it easy!" Piplup said.

"Take it easy?" Chikorita heard herself say, and suddenly the world was blurry. "How can I take it easy when everyone I know and love it dead? Do you even understand what you're saying?"

"Yeah, I do!" Piplup shouted back, and the shock of him sounding so full of passionate anger made her almost topple over. "We've all lost people! My brother and my mother! Their parents are dead too, as of yesterday! It's not just you that's going through this!"

"That doesn't make anything better!" she shouted back, and this time she was in control of herself, and she knew exactly what she was saying. "Just because you've lost someone, I'm not supposed to feel upset? Oh, give me a break! I don't even know who you are!"

"It's not going to _get_ better!" Piplup shouted. "It's just…" And suddenly, she could see him there, the real him, alone and afraid, even with the two Fire Nation trainees flanking him. "It's just… stuff."

Piplup sniffed and wiped away his own tears. Then, he did something that Chikorita felt shocked by; he lunged at her, but not to attack. He had wrapped his arms around her. He was _hugging_ her.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But it's not going to go away, it's not. You just need to learn to live with it. It's always going to be a part of you, no matter what. And maybe… maybe it's better to live like that sooner rather than later."

He let go of her and stepped back. Charmander and Torchic were looking at him oddly, and she could tell by their faces that this wasn't normal Piplup behavior. At last, it was over, though.

"I… I don't know what to say," Charmander said. "Crap. I mean… what do we do now?"

"I guess we just… wait," Piplup said.

Torchic had been staring at Chikorita this whole time, and now spoke to her. "If you need a place to sleep, there's a room upstairs."

Chikorita suddenly felt as though her eyes were made of stone. She nodded at Torchic, trying to show that she trusted what she was saying. "Yes," she said. "I'm sorry, yes. Maybe that's… maybe that's best."

Torchic nodded, and Chikorita could still see the concern on her face, which made her want to wretch. With one last look at the trio before her, Chikorita climbed the steps to the upper floor. She looked to her right, and could see a bedroom that looked like it was clearly occupied by Piplup. She could tell by the small, unmade bed that was in there. She turned to her left, seeing a door that was slightly open. Positive that this was the room Torchic was talking about, Chikorita entered.

She saw a large bed, though it wasn't the largest she'd ever seen. That award went to her father, whose bed was so big that she, Bayleef, and he would have been able to fit on it at the same time if they wanted to, with plenty of room for larger guests. Shaking the thoughts of her deceased family out of her mind, Chikorita went to the bed. She got under the covers and closed her eyes. She had left the door open, though a part of her told her that closing it would ensure that she would know whether or not someone walked into the room while she was asleep. But her exhaustion was too much to bear.

As she began to drift off, her mind wandered to Piplup, and to that hug. Was it because he'd seen a similar pain to his in her eyes, or was he just trying to be friendly? She thought that the former was more likely, though she didn't know enough about him to really be sure. What she suddenly became sure about, though, as he mind fell into the trance of sleep, was that the Fire Nation trainees trusted him. Why would they do that? Maybe, just maybe, it was because they really were a trustworthy group.

As she drifted into her own little dream world that would be happy until the nightmares came back, she realized that she wouldn't trust them. But that didn't mean she _couldn't_.


	25. Tepig III

**Tepig**

Tepig looked down at Ponyta's body, feeling almost numb to what had happened. Her face, which in hindsight had been so pretty and innocent, was no more, and neither was the mind that was held behind that face. Tepig sighed, resigning to the left corner of her grave. So many were there that it was almost a shock. But Ponyta had been Lady Rapidash's daughter, and Lady Rapidash was a well-resepcted figure within the Fire Nation. Of course there was going to be a large, grieving crowd because of Ponyta's demise. Why wouldn't there be?

Tepig raised his head and looked around the crowd. He didn't want to look at Ponyta's body anymore, not because it disturbed him, though. It was because it _didn't_ , and the little feeling that he had when he saw his friends' destroyed corpse sitting in a ditch two feet deep in front of him scared him. Why didn't he at least feel guilty? Why wasn't the horror of the situation engulfing him as it had when it had happened, when he'd seen her head splatter and fly in every direction? What had he become?

He was jolted out of his thoughts by a voice calling his name. He turned, looking behind him to see Fennekin standing there. Her face was grave, and Tepig could see dark circles under her eyes. Of course she hadn't slept the night before. No one had slept, not after the attack. It was a miracle that they were able to push back the Ground Nation forces as they had, though it hadn't been easy. And it had cost a lot. No more trainees besides Ponyta had died, thank Arceus, but that was just as they knew of.

When Tepig had come to that morning, Flareon had informed him of everything, even though he had insisted that Tepig wouldn't want to hear it. But Tepig did want to hear it, he wanted to hear it all. After he had passed out, Monferno had been rushed to the hospital, which Fire Nation soldiers had managed to clear of any Ground Nation troops. Meanwhile, a battle had ensued outside of Furnace. When all was said and done, the Ground Nation had been pushed back two miles from the city before Senator Garchomp ordered them all the retreat. It had been a victory for the Fire Nation, but with significant losses. They'd lost roughly nine hundred troops in battle, nearly double what the Ground Nation's estimated losses had been. Coupling that with the three hundred civilians killed in the attack, fifty of them children younger than Tepig himself, and the crippling weight of their pyrrhic victory came crashing down on Tepig like a ton of bricks.

And now here he was, staring into Fennekin's eyes, knowing that she was the only one left. They'd both gotten word of Charmander and Torchic's disappearances during the battle just a few short hours ago, and the two of them hugged and kissed each other as they cried. Tepig knew in his heart that they had to be dead. There was just no possible way that they were alive, not after everything that had happened in that battle. Not after the stories that Fennekin came back with of the horrendous betrayal of the Ground Nation on their Water Nation allies, nor after the fight Fennekin had nearly lost a battle with (who else but?) Senator Empoleon's son.

And the feeling came back to him again, the old familiar one of guilt and deception as he looked into her loving eyes, twisting his face in a fashion to mimic it, because he knew in his heart that he didn't love her. And a part of him deep within told him that he had never loved her, that he'd only been with her because he needed someone to help him achieve the status of a life he didn't think was worth living. The dark thoughts that had clouded his mind since his parent's deaths were back, and they were growing stronger and stronger by the minute.

And then she hugged him, and they seemed to engulf him, and he wanted to scream. She said something to him, and he didn't know what it was, but he felt like he knew what the correct response was. "I'll always be here for you," he said, and he knew while he said it that it was a lie, and that he'd only said it so she would believe him. "I love you," he added, and he hoped that it sounded genuine. Fennekin pulled back and smiled. She kissed him, and he obliged, kissing her back. All the while he felt nothing, just a cold empty cavern in his heart.

Tepig averted his gaze from her and looked back down at Ponyta's body. The body was set neatly in a wooden casket, a casket whose cover was being lowered onto it. Why did they do it like that? Why didn't they just keep the casket closed the whole Arceus-damned time and leave the memories of the dead with the living, leave them in everyone's head as they had been alive? No, no, can't do that, nope! Why not? Tepig didn't know. Tepig didn't care. But he did, somehow.

 _I just don't want to be here,_ he said to himself. _I just don't want to see her get buried._

But the truth was he didn't care. And his heart raced because he didn't.

The service was led by Senator Typhlosion. It lasted an hour, and in that hour, Tepig barely heard anything. Typhlosion talked about life and death, of how Ponyta was certainly with her father and with Arceus right now, there in the sky, and Tepig wanted to believe him, but a part of him thought that maybe he wasn't right. That was what scared him the most. What if Arceus wasn't real? What if he was just a comfort, like Fennekin was a comfort for him, not something to be loved, just something to be accepted because it made them feel better? Tepig didn't want to think like that, but his worn-out, stressed, depressed mind caused those thoughts to flourish in his brain.

When the service was over, everyone began to break apart. Everyone had work to do now, and everyone needed to do what they could to repair their broken city. Fennekin looked at Tepig, the raw emotion of sadness in her eyes. "We should go see Monferno," she suggested, "see how he's doing."

Tepig nodded. "Yeah," he managed to utter, powering through the urge to keep his mouth shut. Fennekin stared at him for a moment more, then began to walk towards the hospital. She knew he just wanted to be alone to collect his thoughts for a minute. She was a good person. It would be a shame, he realized, when he would be forced to break her heart.

Suddenly, Tepig heard someone behind him call out his name. He turned, and was almost blinded by the fire that was blazing in front of him. Except it wasn't a fire, but Lady Rapidash. She stood up straight on all four legs, as though she were preparing to face a battle that would last for a long time. Her mane glowed; even in the sunny afternoon it was easily discernible from the sun. She looked at Tepig for a long time without saying anything, and he could see on her face that she was trying to get the words out. He waited, impatient, for her to say something.

At last, she did speak, and looked him directly in the eyes as she did so. "Thank you," she said, "for trying to save my daughter's life. Monferno said he heard you say you were going to protect her and me… I just wanted you to know that I know. And I want you to know that there's nothing that you did that was wrong. You tried to save her and even though… even though this happened… I won't forget that."

Tepig nodded. "Thank you," he said. "And I'm sorry for your loss."

"As am I," Rapidash said, and she bowed her head to him. "Have better days, Tepig."

Tepig nodded back, and said hollowly, "I hope you do too."

Rapidash stared at him for a moment more. Then she turned towards her daughter's grave and stared into it, seemingly contemplating what she was going to do now that the only thing in this world that she had loved was gone. And Tepig almost felt guilty, not because she had died practically in his arms, not because of the mangled corpse that she had become, but because he didn't really care how Rapidash felt. Everything felt almost fake. Perhaps that _was_ grief acting on him. But he didn't think so. For some reason, he just didn't think so.

"Tepig!" he heard Fennekin holler from behind him. "You coming?"

Tepig turned from Ponyta's grave, and heard the first shovelful of dirt fall upon her casket. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah." And he walked away, leaving Rapidash to her grief.

When he finally caught up to Fennekin, her eyes were filled with concern and fear. "You alright?" she asked him softly.

"No," he admitted. "But I don't think anyone's going to be alright for a while."

She nodded, and Tepig could see tears standing out in her eyes. "We all know what you did, you know," she said. "That you tried to save her. You're such a good person, Tepig. You really are."

 _No, I'm not,_ he thought. _I tried to save her, sure, but she died and I feel nothing. I'm not okay, but it's not because of Ponyta that I'm not okay. It's because of me. It's because when I looked down into her casket and I saw her splattered head in there I couldn't feel a damn thing._

But he resigned to tell her that, settling for, "I'm not a hero, Fennekin. I did what anyone else would do in that situation. And I failed."

"You failed but you tried," she said. "No one can fault you for that. Tepig, you're only fourteen. No one is going to blame you for a death you didn't cause. If anything, the Ground Nation is the one to blame. And they need to be stopped."

"How about we stop?" Tepig said. A look of hurt came onto Fennekin's face, and though he didn't love her, it didn't mean he didn't care about her. "What I meant was, we should just go visit Monferno. I really don't want to talk about this stuff anymore."

Fennekin nodded. "Alright," she said. "Yeah. Let's go."

The two of them walked across the wrecked and wretched streets of Furnace. The brick pathways that snaked through the city were no longer as smooth and walkable as they had been less than twenty-four hours ago. Now there were holes everywhere, broken brick tossed in every direction. Windows to shops and homes were broken, and some were even completely gone. There was dried blood everywhere, streaks and stains seemingly on every surface of this once stable city. People were crying, others were cleaning with emotionless looks on their faces, as though they were robots doing as they were programmed to do. Some were sitting in the middle of the pathway, looking about at the destruction all around them, looking like they just weren't able to comprehend what had happened. And the reality of it was that nothing like this had ever happened to the Fire Nation before, so really, no one could understand it.

The hospital was a grave sight to behold. The whole building had a hollowed-out look to it, given that all of the windows stretching up were broken. The sign above the former glass doors (they were really just metal outlines now) that read "HOSPITAL" now read "HOS IT L", the other letters in scattered pieces around the doorway. But still, through all of the damage, the sigil of the Fire Nation just below it was clean and sturdy. Tepig knew it meant nothing, though. Just because the sigil was still standing didn't mean that they themselves were.

As they entered the hospital, Flareon was sitting at the front desk. He nodded to them. "Ah, you're here to see Monferno, aren't you?" he asked.

"Is he awake?" Fennekin asked shyly.

"He woke up an hour ago," Flareon said. "Quilava's up there with him right now. He told me that if you two came we could let you into the room. He's extremely concerned. He's a very good friend of Mofnerno's, I see."

Fennekin nodded. "Right." She looked over at Tepig. "Come on," she said, "let's go."

Tepig nodded. They were just about to go to the staircase when Flareon quickly called them back. Tepig turned and saw that Flareon was looking right at him. "After everything that happened today," the Fire Nation medic explained, "I think you should stay in the hospital for a little while longer. Even if you say you're fine, Tepig, I just think its best."

Tepig nodded. "Me too," he said. He turned back to Fennekin, who was now looking at him with concerned eyes. Tepig shook his head. "Come on," he said gruffly. "Let's go see them."

They went up the stairs to the fourth floor. They walked down the hallway, the sounds of people in pain echoing throughout. As they were walking Fennekin stopped. "Wait," she said. "Before we go there."

She turned right and Tepig followed. The two of them peaked into the room, the room which housed two injured warriors from the battle. Flareon had told Tepig about what had happened to them. At first, they had been thought dead, and for a little while Blaziken was. But they had been brought in, stitched up, and were now permitted to two weeks of bedrest. The wounds hadn't been as bad as they had seemed at first, Flareon had told him. Charizard's neck had been sliced open, but it hadn't punctured a major artery, and the wound was fairly small. Blaziken had taken some work, but his large wound hadn't been that deep and would heal, save for the stitches that he had that made him look like a doll that had been fixed after being ripped in two.

And there they were, Charizard and Blaziken, both of them asleep in their beds. Tepig felt a bit of hope rise in his heart. If they could make it back from that, surely their children would be able to make it back from something just as bad. But when he thought that, his heart sank again, realizing that what they had been through was nothing compared to the lost limbs of some soldiers that had survived. Perhaps Charmander and Torchic would be better off dead if _that_ ever happened to them.

"Let's leave them to rest," Fennekin whispered, backing out of the room. Tepig stared at the two of them for a moment more, then followed suit. Fennekin began to trot down the hallway, going towards Monferno's room. At last, they reached it, and Tepig wasn't surprised at all to find that the door was locked shut.

Fennekin banged on the door. There was a muffled scuffling sound, then Quilava's voice: "Okay, okay! Give me a second!"

Quilava opened the door. He was on his hind legs, and quickly dropped to the floor once the door was open. "Hey," he said. "Come on in."

Fennekin went in first, Tepig following slowly behind her. There was Monferno, in the hospital bed. He was smiling, but it was a pained smile, and Tepig knew that, soon enough it was going to break. "Hey, guys," Monferno said. "How's it hanging?"

"As good as it can be, I guess," Fennekin said. "How… how are you doing?"

Monferno's smile faltered. He looked down at himself, then sighed. "Not… great," he said. "Not great at all, actually. I'm not… I'm not going to be able to battle again."

"What… what do you mean?" Fennekin asked.

Monferno sighed and leaned back. Quilava went to him, putting his hand over his. "If you don't want to say it, it's okay," Quilava said.

Monferno sighed. "No," he said. "No it's okay." He looked at the two of them, and Tepig saw with a start the same emptiness that he felt reflected in Monferno's own eyes. And he feared it. Monferno broke Tepig's thoughts when he spoke. "I'm… from the waist down, I can't move my legs anymore. I'm never going to walk again. Or really do anything, I guess."

Monferno lay his head back against his pillow and closed his eyes. Quilava came over to him and embraced him. Monferno welcomed it, the feeling that Tepig had within that was in Monferno's eyes suddenly shattering. They embraced for a moment, and Tepig knew that they had forgotten all about him and Fennekin for the time being. That they were together in their embrace, together as they were and as they would be forever. Or at least, for however long their forever was.

"Well," Fennekin said, "I think we should leave you two to your alone time."

Quilava looked up. "If you don't mind?" he asked.

Fennekin nodded. "Oh, don't worry, _we_ understand." She looked over at Tepig and smiled playfully. He smirked back, then turned back towards Quilava and Monferno, thinking he should say something.

"We'll come back tomorrow," he said.

Quilava nodded. "Sure," he said. "Oh, and before I forget. We trust you guys. But if you could just _not_ mention this to our fathers… that would help."

Monferno nodded, then chuckled a little. "Man, if my dad ever found out, wouldn't there be hell to pay."

Quilava nodded. "Oh yeah, we'd be pretty dead, that's for damn sure."

Fennekin chuckled. "Oh please, they wouldn't care. But don't worry. Your secrets safe with us."

Tepig nodded. "Yeah."

"Thanks, guys," Quilava said. "See you later!"

"Bye!" Fennekin shouted behind her back as she trotted towards the door. Tepig followed her more slowly, not looking back, save to close the door. When he did, he saw Quilava on top of Monferno, kissing him passionately.

Tepig felt something stir within him. _That_ was what he wanted, he realized. He wanted someone that he could connect to, someone that could shatter the darkness that held him prisoner in his heart. Someone that he could smile with and be genuine with, someone he could love not just as a friend, but as something more. Fennekin wasn't that person. He cared about her, but not in the way a lover cares for their love. He cared about her as a friend cared for another friend. And he felt nothing else but that. She was his crutch. And she had no idea.

"Tepig?" Fennekin asked. "You coming?"

Tepig realized with a start that he had been standing in front of Monferno's door just long enough for Fennekin to get almost a dozen rooms away from him in the hall. Tepig nodded, reluctance in his mind, and he hoped it didn't show in how he acted. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I'm coming."

The two of them walked out of the hospital, and in that moment, Tepig realized that sometime soon, Fennekin would have to learn how he really felt. He just hoped against all hope that she would forgive him.


	26. Charmander IX

**Charmander**

Charmander was sitting at the kitchen table when the door to the house was flung open. He had been drifting off, almost out of complete boredom. After Chikorita had gone up to Empoleon's room, Torchic had gone up to check on her roughly an hour later. She had reported that the Grass Nation trainee was sound asleep, and they all agreed that she had looked like she needed it. They didn't discuss her much, though, not in the sense of whether or not they could trust her. It would be hypocritical, really, to accept each other, those of Fire and Water Nation, and not accept her. Though it would take some getting used to, of course.

 _So much is happening at once_ , Charmander had been thinking before the door was flung open. How could two days feel like months? In just two days he'd lost his family, perhaps his Nation, and had wound up miles away. And to top it all off, he was now acquaintances (not friends, he didn't think that could really be applied to the relationship as it stood) with not one, but _two_ Water Nation trainees. If his father could see him now, Charmander was sure that he would scorn him.

But his father wouldn't see him, couldn't see him. Because Charizard had died in that battle with Garchomp. Even though he hadn't seen it, Charmander was sure of it. Garchomp was the greatest fighter in the Ground Nation, and all other nations for that matter, and it was him that had taken his father away from him. And there just wasn't anything he could-

He jumped when the door to the house was flung open and a small, unfamiliar Pokémon stood in the doorway. It looked to Charmander like an almost miniature version of Feraligatr, though the head was much bigger, and from a distance, the entire body looked blue. Well, save for the red scales running down its back. It eyes were filled with nervousness.

"Um," it- he- spoke, "Piplup?"

"Totodile!" Piplup said. "Close the door!"

Totodile jumped, then slammed the door shut behind him. "Sorry," he said. "Everyone in the city's on edge right now, even after my dad tried to calm everyone down. But, hey, I guess that's how it goes, huh?"

"Why are you here?" Piplup asked. It was a bit too rough, for Charmander could see a bit of hurt make its way into Totodile's eyes. Realizing what he'd implied, Piplup put up his flippers defensively. "No-no! No," he said, "that's not what I meant. What did you come here for?"

"My dad sent me," Totodile explained. He looked past Piplup to Charmander. "Feraligatr," he said.

Charmander nodded. "I can see the resemblance," he remarked.

"Right," Totodile said, turning his full attention back to Piplup. "Well, it's about your father, Piplup. Good news, and bad news. The good news is, he woke up!"

Piplup stood there for a moment, taking in the information. Slowly, a smile grew on his face. Then he jumped up into the air, and shouted loudly; "Yes!"

"Well, we all kinda _knew_ he was going to wake up," Totodile explained. "Not like we _didn't._ But there is a bit of bad news. It's not that bad, but for you… for you it might be."

Piplup was solemn once again. Before Totodile could tell anyone the bad news, though, a voice came softly from the staircase.

"What's going on?" Chikorita asked. She was looking at Totodile in pure fright, and Charmander thought that, if she had the chance, she would have run out of there screaming. _How did someone so jumpy get to become a trainee? Surely she'd be better off doing medic work!_

But he pushed the thought out of his mind. No, for all he knew she was completely untrained and inexperienced. He thought that maybe she hadn't been trained well enough prior to her first battle. Maybe that was why the bandages were wrapped around her. _Bandages!_ Charmander nearly slapped his forehead out in the open. _I was going to ask her about the bandages!_ But now wasn't the right time, and he and everyone else knew it.

"My father," Piplup explained. "He could have died but… but he's okay, now."

Chikorita stood there for a moment. Then she drew in a deep breath and let it out. "Good," she said. "I'm glad." Then she walked up the stairs. Charmander grimaced as Empoleon's door slammed behind her. He looked at the staircase with empathy. It didn't seem fair, did it, that Empoleon got to live while Charizard, Blaziken, and her father had to die? But the world really wasn't fair. It just took people up on the stage and slit their throats open when they were least expecting it. But, Charmander knew, there was always a way to bounce back from even the worst tragedies.

"I'm sorry," Piplup said, turning back to Totodile. "She's just… she lost her father today." Then he motioned towards both Torchic, who was sitting on the couch not five feet from Totodile and Piplup, and Charmander. "They all did."

"Oh," Totodile said. "Oh, sweet Arceus, I'm so sorry."

"Thank you," Torchic said.

Totodile's gaze shifted towards Torchic, and it looked to Charmander as though he had been struck by a ton of bricks. When he saw that look in Totodile's eyes, that strange look that he had seen in the eyes of those that saw someone rather "to their liking" walking down the street, he felt something stir within him. Jealously? No. Foolishness, more like. Just because Totodile may have liked the way Torchic looked didn't mean anything, not if they were going to go home within the next week or two, as Feraligatr had told Torchic.

Totodile cleared his throat and turned his head away from Torchic, making Charmander feel more at ease. "Well," Totodile said, "the bad news is that he needs to have six to eight weeks of bedrest. And that also means that you need to be here to take care of him in that time."

Piplup nodded. "Yeah," he said. "That's not really bad news, more of a given, dude."

"Oh," Totodile said. He sighed. "I don't know, man, I was just told to give you the news."

Piplup laughed, though the laugh sounded a bit hollow, like he was just doing it to put up with Totodile's shenanigans. "Don't sweat it," he said.

"Well, that's not all," Totodile said. He stared down at his feet. Before Piplup could pry him for information, though, Totodile opened the door to the house. In stepped two more figures. One was a sloth-like pink fat thing with a long, curved tail. The other was a yellow duck-looking thing with three hairs on top of its head. Piplup looked at them, his gaze giving off no impression of what he was thinking. But Charmander knew he had to be thinking. People were in his home, invited in by a guest. Boy, he must have been thinking _something_.

"We know about what happened," the pink thing said, and its voice confirmed for Charmander that this was in fact a girl. "And we're just glad it's finally over."

"Not really," Piplup said. Then, before the pink girl could respond, Piplup turned his attention towards Charmander and Torchic. "Guys, this is Charmander, and this is Torchic. And you two, this is Slowpoke and Psyduck."

The pink female Pokémon, Slowpoke, nodded respectfully. "We heard what happened to you two, also," she said. "I mean, gosh, I am sorry for what happened to you two."

"We appreciate that," Charmander said.

There was silence for a long time. Then, Psyduck broke it. "So, how ya doin' Piplup?" he asked. "You holding up okay?"

"Yeah," Piplup said, "but, and I don't mean to blow you guys off, but… but I think I just want to be alone right now."

"Alone with them, you mean," Psyduck said. Piplup looked at him questioningly. Psyduck's eyes widened. "Hey, sorry, man, didn't realize your hard ass had gotten so damn sensitive. Whatever."

With that, Psyduck walked out the door. Slowpoke followed behind him. Piplup slammed the door shut, then jumped up and bolted it shut. He turned on Totodile, then, and glared. "Really, man?"

"What?" Totodile asked. "They wanted to see you! I knew you wouldn't like it but dude, you're so… antisocial."

"Yeah, and I have my reasons for it," Piplup said. "They don't need to come in here talking about my father or anything else when everything is literally fine. Everything."

"What happened?" Charmander asked. All eyes were on him now. He looked over at Torchic, who was looking at him quizzically, clearly unsure of what he was going to do or say. He continued. "Well, there must be some reason you don't like them."

Piplup sighed. "It's not that I don't like them," he said. "It's just that, I've barely known them, so for them to just come out of the friggin' blue like that and ask me how I'm 'holding up' is just… well, it's just _odd._ "

"Look man, I'm sorry," Totodile said. "I wasn't really all that aware of how much it would hurt you."

"No, no, forget it," Piplup replied sincerely. "Water under the bridge, as the old saying goes."

"Right. Water under the bridge."

There was more silence for a moment. Then, Totodile broke it with another announcement. "So, my dad told me that I had to stay with you guys for the rest of the day."

"Really?" Torchic asked. "Why?"

"I don't know, to be honest," Totodile admitted. "I think he just needs to get some work done, send someone over the contact the Fire Nation and stuff. Plus, I've pretty much been his shadow all day since this morning's incident so, eh, probably just needed an excuse to get rid of me. But on the plus side, looks like we could maybe play a four-person board game is you're up for it!"

"Wait," Torchic said, looking confused and concerned. This spread to Charmander too, once he realized what Totodile's statement implied. "Has Feraligatr contacted the Fire Nation yet?"

"I mean, not that I know of," Totodile said. "But I'm not really keen on that right now. I know there are a few Nations developing their own hologram callers, where you can just press a button and see a hologram of the person you're calling. I don't think Water Nation is though, and if they are I guess they're just really good at keeping it a secret."

Torchic looked down for a moment, in deep thought. Then her head snapped back up, and her eyes locked on Charmander's. It was almost scary, how quick and fluid her movement had been, but she was still the same Torchic he knew. "We need to talk," she said authoritatively. Without even waiting for a response from him, Torchic latched onto Charmander's hand with her beak and pulled him off.

"All right, all right!" he said, pulling his hand away. "Jeez, you don't need to pull so hard!"

"What the hell is going on here?" Torchic asked.

"I know, I see it too," Charmander said. The puzzle pieces were such an easy fit that even a child could figure it out. "Feraligatr is lying about contacting Fire Nation, he has to be."

"I know, but think about everything that implies, too," Torchic said. "He's not sending us home, if that's the case. Then where is he sending us, if anywhere at all? Is Furnace even still standing? Charmander... I think we just became a part of something a lot bigger than… than…"

Torchic's eyes widened, and Charmander was sure she had remembered something important. "What?" he asked.

"When Garchomp… when that _monster_ killed my father," she said, "I heard him growl in his ears…" Torchic trailed off, then looked over at Piplup and Totodile. The two of them seemed to be occupied by their own chit-chat, but Charmander caught Piplup looking at him every few seconds, as though he knew something was wrong. And something was wrong all right. Horribly wrong.

Then, Torchic's beak was up against his ear, and from her beak came the chilling words that Garchomp had spoken to Blaziken right before cutting him down the middle; "For the Reapers."

Torchic pulled back, her eyes filled with fear. Charmander felt a chill go up his spine. "What does it mean?" he asked.

"I don't know," Torchic said. "I don't even know if it's important or not, or if it makes any sense. But what if… what if we've been dragged into it?"

"It?"

"It," Torchic explained, "being something a lot bigger than what we think we know."

Charmander's heart was beating fast. Something big was coming. And, even if this "Reaper" thing had nothing to do with it, Feraligatr had alternate planes for them. And Charmander was dreading the discovery of what they were.


	27. Piplup VII

**Piplup**

Piplup jumped as the door to his house slammed open for the second time that day. He was startled out of his odd dream, a dream in which Froakie was dancing across a desert towards him, arm-in-arm with some sort of strange shadow. But that dream was behind him now, and it meant nothing. Well, it meant _something_ ; he was worried about Froakie. He hadn't even seen him during the commotion that morning when Chikorita had entered the city, and for Froakie to miss something of that caliber was almost downright stress-inducing.

But here he was, trotting his way into the house. Piplup heard chairs scrape as Charmander, Torchic, and Totodile stood up from where they were sitting at the kitchen table. They had actually taken up Totodile's game board offer, and it had been fun for the first three hours or so. After that, Piplup decided it was time for him to call it quits, forfeiting and going to rest on the couch. It was there that he drifted off to sleep, and it was that that caused him to wake up with such a start when four Pokémon barged into his home.

Froakie bounded over to him, smiling and waving. Behind him were three figures that almost seemed to loom over him. The first one that he noticed was his father. He looked a lot better than he did the day before, though he looked like he had been cut to pieces and been put back together as well as anyone possibly could accomplish such a task. A doll; that was what he really looked like. A doll that had been torn up by angry children and had been sown back together by a caring mother. Except Empoleon's stitches were chilling, because Piplup knew that underneath them was real flesh and blood.

Helping him inside was Feraligatr. The large Water Nation Senator had one arm underneath one of Empoleon's and seemed to be carrying his body just with his own strength. Feraligatr was accompanied by Greninja as well, who looked around the room. He smiled and waved at Charmander, Torchic, and Totodile, then did the same to Piplup. They all regarded him with friendly gestures.

Feraligatr set Empoleon on the couch with a heaving gasp. Empoleon fell onto it, causing it to creak a bit under his immense weight, something that Piplup was used to but brought concern into Feraligatr's eyes. Empoleon regarded his son with a stare, at Piplup was sure that that was all he was going to get after everything his father had been through. He was thoroughly shocked when Emoleon swiftly picked him up and embraced him. Piplup, shocked, looked past his father to his three companions (because even if he wasn't really friends with Charmander and Torchic, that was what they had become), who looked on, smiling. Piplup felt a smile grow on his own face, and he nuzzled his head into his father's shoulder. "I'm glad you're okay," he murmured.

"I'm glad you are, too," Empoleon replied.

"All right," Feraligatr said, walking over to the kitchen table. "It's time for us to sort everything… wait, where's the Grass Nation girl?"

"Asleep," Charmander explained. Feraligatr looked at him, confused. "She was tired," Charmander explained. "She sort of had a mental freak out. We took her upstairs to rest."

"And are you sure she's still there?" Greninja asked.

"I'm here," a voice from the staircase said. Everyone turned their attention to Chikorita, who was walking down the stairs. She blushed when she realized that everyone was staring at her, and Piplup thought that he would be just as nervous in her situation. "Sorry, I just… I just wasn't feeling like myself so I..." She trailed off, looking down at her feet, and stopping herself from going any further down the staircase.

"We understand," Greninja said, and Piplup knew from the tone of his voice that it was genuine. Then he turned his attention back to Feraligatr. "All right," he said, "let's begin."

"The first order of business," Feraligatr announced, "is these Fire Nation trainees. It had been decided, after much deliberation between the Council members, that they will be permitted to stay for the next week to allow Furnace to recuperate from the Ground Nation attack. I've already made personal contact with the Fire Nation Council, and they've agreed to allow us to house you here until that time. You will be free to roam the streets of Aquarius, on a few conditions. Firstly, either Piplup, Froakie, or Totodile must be with you at all times. You must both leave and come back here together. You will stay here as well, and Empoleon has already agreed to it. After a week, you'll be taken back to the Fire Nation. Understood?"

Charmander nodded, then smiled. "Yeah," he said. "Thank you."

"Now," Feraligatr said, turning towards the staircase. "As for you-"

"Excuse me, Senator Feraligatr?"

The Water Nation Senator turned. Piplup saw Charmander tense up, like Torchic, who had spoken, was about to drop a bomb on the entire deal Feraligatr had made out. And Piplup felt tense as well. What the hell was Torchic going to say? _Oh, don't tell me she suddenly doesn't trust him_ now, he thought.

"Yes, Torchic?" Feraligatr asked. "What is it?"

"Just out of curiosity, how do you know what happened in Furnace?"

Feraligatr looked at her quizzically. "I just told you," he said. "I've contacted the Fire Nation Council and they've given me the information. Why, do you want to go back earlier? It's not a safe option, not in the slightest."

"Yeah," Charmander piped up, "we get that. But _how_ did you contact them?"

"Oh, you children are being ridiculous," Feraligatr scoffed. "Now, if we could just get back to the matter at hand-"

"No, no," Empoleon broke in. Piplup looked at him, suddenly realizing what was going on. Feraligatr couldn't have contacted the Fire Nation… could he have? He didn't think it was possible, and he saw on his father's face the same disbelief in his mind. "How exactly were you able to contact the Fire Nation?"

Feraligatr sighed. "Empoleon," he said. "I've been meaning to tell the Council for a while now, about what I've been dabbling in. And I don't think now is the best time to tell you."

"Well, come now, Feraligatr!" Empoleon exclaimed. "We're friends, after all! You can trust me!"

Feraligatr glared at Empoleon for a moment. Then he let his head down with a sigh. "Fine," he said. "All right. The truth of the matter is that… it's that I've been dabbling in making hologram callers."

"Really, now?" Empoleon said. Piplup saw that his father was smirking, clearly impressed by Feraligatr's revelation. "So you used a hologram caller that you made to contact the Fire Nation."

"It _was_ difficult," Feraligatr admitted convincingly, "but I managed to get a connective signal with one of theirs. We talked for a little bit, and they suggested that the children not be sent back until after the damage had been cleared up. Truly, I don't see why any of this should be made into a big deal."

"So, would you be willing to show me your hologram caller?"

Feraligatr looked down at his feet. "Well, it _is_ a work in progress." Then his eyes lit up and he turned his head back up, flashing a smile at his fellow Senator. "But I don't see why not."

Empoleon smiled back. "Good. Mayhap you can bring it over tomorrow? I've always wanted to mess with one of those."

"Sure. But don't break it, otherwise I may have to break you!"

Empoleon was overcome with laughter at this. As was Feraligatr, chuckling at his own joke. But Piplup didn't feel very comfortable with the way Feraligatr's eyes wouldn't shift away from Empoleon's face. _Something's wrong with what he's saying_ , Piplup realized. _And I think Charmander and Torchic know it._

Feraligatr turned back to Chikorita and flashed a smile at her. "Sorry, dear," he said, "but we can get back to you. From what Empoleon's told us, there is only enough room for two more trainees in this house. As for you, Chikorita, Greninja here has offered you a place at his house for the night."

Chikorita looked over at Geninja distrustfully. The frog-like warrior gave her a wave. "Hello, you must be Chikorita," he said. "I'm Greninja, and this is my son, Froakie."

Greninja gestured toward Froakie, who raised his hand in a wave, but said nothing. Geninja continued to address Chikorita. "We only have a couch," Greninja said. "But it _is_ a comfortable couch." He smirked a bit, clearly expecting Chikorita to laugh a bit, at least give him a smile. But she didn't. She smirked a bit for a moment, but that smirk was quickly squashed, probably, Piplup guessed, by thoughts of her father.

"Yes, I… thank you," Chikorita said, dipping her head.

"Oh, no," Geninja said. "The pleasure is all mine. I've already got a dinner made as well. We should go right away, before it gets cold. Come on, Froakie."

Froakie looked back at Piplup and gave him a little wave. "See ya later," he said.

"Likewise," Piplup replied.

The door opened, and into the open night walked Greninja, Chikorita, and Froakie, closing the door behind them as they walked out.

When they were gone, Feraligatr surveyed the room. "Right, then," he said. "I'll leave you all to do what you want to."

He turned to leave, but was stopped quickly. "Oh!" he said. "That's right! I nearly forgot!"

Feraligatr walked outside and grabbed something that was next to the door. He swung the door shut and presented the group in front of him with a box labeled "Aquarius Pizza." He walked over to the kitchen table, pushing past Charmander and Torchic to do so, and set the box on it. "It's fresh," he said. "Just got it not five minutes ago."

"Ah, so _that's_ where you went off to in a hurry," Empoleon said, smirking.

Feraligatr smiled back. "Got you your favorite, too."

"Red pepper?"

"Green. Did you really get injured that badly?"

"Smartass," Empoleon scoffed.

Feraligatr bellowed with laughter. He walked towards the door, turned around and said, "You all have a good night, now," before leaving.

Empoleon sighed and leaned back in the couch. He looked over at Piplup, then towards Charmander and Torchic. "I never got to thank you," he said. "All of you. Water Nation owes you a great debt. I'm going to try and talk to the Council in a few days, make sure that you two"- he was now addressing the Fire Nation trainees- "get the recognition you deserve."

"Senator Empoleon, it really wasn't a problem," Charmander explained. "We were just in the right place at the right time."

"I know that," Empoleon said. "But that doesn't mean you aren't worthy of a reward."

"We appreciate it," Torchic said. "Thank you."

Empoleon nodded. "See? Smart girl you have there."

"Oh, no," Charmander said, "we're not-"

Empoleon laughed. "Yeah," he said. "I was just teasing. Alright. I guess now it's time for dinner. Piplup, could you bring me a slice?"

"Yeah," Piplup said. He got up, suddenly realizing that his legs were shaking. This was mostly in part of his father being okay. He had been scared, he truly had been, but now that he was safe he felt almost joyful. The bitterness that he had been feeling about his father not even forty-eight hours ago had faded. Perhaps it really had just been him being irrational. He still wasn't going to rule out one thing though; even though he loved his father, he was still a dolt.

As for the other part of that was the confrontation Torchic had instigated against Feraligatr. What the hell had that been about? _Arceus, tell me they aren't planning to do something rash,_ he thought. And he knew there was only one way to get answers. He would ask them.

He approached the pizza box, Charmander and Torchic coming to both sides of him. "What the hell was that with Feraligatr back there?" he whispered.

Charmander whispered only one thing back, one thing that changed Piplup's view of Feraligatr in a single instant. Suddenly, he was fearful of what the future would hold, and what was really going to happen to the Fire Nation trainees. Charmander said, "The Fire Nation doesn't _have_ any hologram callers."


	28. Chikorita VI

**Chikorita**

When the door closed behind Chikorita, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Greninja and Froakie had noticed her sudden skittishness, with Froakie eyeing her cautiously. Greninja was less cautious, his face more filled with empathy than it was tension. "Are you alright?" the Water Nation warrior asked.

Chikorita nodded quickly. _Yup,_ she thought bitterly, _never better_. Greninja stared at her for a moment more before slowly turning away. She let out a low, inaudible sigh. She didn't want them thinking that she couldn't take care of herself, that she would need some sort of protection because of how jumpy she'd been at the sound of a simple door closing. She needed to keep herself aware of everything right now, in this foreign place. How the hell could she trust any of this? All she knew was that this was where she was, and she had a feeling this wasn't going to end well.

"You coming?"

The voice broke Chikorita's train of thought. She looked up, seeing that Greninja was a little ways away from her. His son, Froakie, meanwhile, was staring at her, concerned. "Hey," he said. "Listen, I heard about what happened to you. And I… well, I'm sorry it happened."

Chikorita said nothing, just stared at him, wondering what his plan was. Just to talk to her? No, that couldn't be it. Not a Water Nation trainee, not to someone who was practically a prisoner until they contacted the Grass Nation. If they even did.

Froakie, clearly interpreting her silence as means to continue, kept talking. "My mother left us a while ago. She left a letter for us in our kitchen, telling us it was too dangerous to stay here. I think she just left because… because she just didn't want to be with us anymore. Maybe she didn't want to have a family. Maybe she just needed to find herself. I don't know. But…"

Froakie looked at Chikorita expectantly. She just stared at him, wondering how any of his struggles were supposed to make her feel any better about her situation. Froakie sighed. "Arceus," he muttered. "I guess it doesn't matter. I just… you're not alone in any of this. We've all lost people, whether they've died or whether they haven't. We've all lost people to the war and there's gonna be a hell of a lot more loss before it's over. I just… never mind."

Froakie turned quickly and began to walk towards his father. Reluctantly, Chikorita followed. She guessed he was partly right, that everyone had lost someone. But that didn't justify her practical imprisonment by the Water Nation, nor did it justify why she was being taken to his house against her will. What the hell was all this friendly stuff about anyway? It seemed like a heap of crap. None of it made any sense to her, that they would be so willing to give her food and shelter. Why not have her locked up in a cell like most prisoners of war?

"We're here," Froakie said at her side. She jumped a bit once again, realizing for the first time that she had caught up with the two of them, and that she had been walking a few paces in line with them. Froakie looked at her when she jumped, startled himself. "Hey," he said. "It's alright."

 _Liar_ , Chikorita thought.

Greninja pushed his way between the two of them, reaching out his arm. He turned the knob and swung the door in, revealing to Chikorita a home that looked nearly identical to Piplup's. There were a few differences though; for one, the kitchen table was a lot smaller, able to seat four people if need be. The couch was also smaller, and there was a chair beside it that looked just perfect for Froakie to sit in. The stairs were also coated in a soft, blue rug that ran all the way from the bottom to the top of the staircase. Said blue rug was also covering the floor, except in the kitchen, which was made of a dark hardwood flooring. Chikorita looked around in wonder, seeing just how clean and magnificent the house looked. _Don't let your guard down_ , she told herself. _You don't know what's actually being planned here._

Greninja looked down at Chikorita. "Would you be okay with sleeping on the couch?" Greninja asked. "It's just that, Froakie and I have our own rooms, and we don't have a guest bedroom. Is that alright with you?"

Chikorita nodded. "Absolutely," she said, looking at the couch. Noticing how close to the door it was. How easy it would be for her to sneak out in the middle of the night if she so chose to. _Oh, I choose to_ , she thought, thinking in her head just how she would be able to avoid any guards that would obviously be heavily placed throughout the city.

But then, the realization struck her. She was going to sleep next to a door that she could easily open. A door that _Greninja_ knew she would be able to easily open. Why place her next to the door? Unless… unless nothing was going on at all. Unless she wasn't a prisoner here. Unless it was true. That Feraligatr and the rest of the Council were going to get someone to go to the Grass Nation to tell them about how they had her in Aquarius, and she would be home soon.

Greninja walked into the kitchen. He turned around, looking at Chikorita curiously. "Do you like pasta?"

Chikorita was caught a bit off-guard with his question, and it took her a moment to process it. Then she nodded. "Yes," she said.

Greninja smiled. "Well, you're gonna _love_ this stuff."

Quick as a flash, Greninja's long tongue leapt from his mouth. It shot across the room, tied around a cabinet's handle, and yanked it open. Still just a quick, Greninja used his tongue to grab three plates out of the cabinet, setting then swiftly yet neatly on the counter beside the stove. Greninja looked over at Chikorita and his son, giving the two of them a queer, proud smile that made Chikorita want to burst out laughing. Froakie chuckled beside her. "Showoff," he scoffed.

Greninja barked a laugh, then went over to a small pot next to the stove, holding a plate in one of his hands. He scooped up some pasta, pasta that looked (and smelled, she realized) fantastic. In just a minute, he had three plates placed on the kitchen table, all of them brimming with his specialty pasta, all of them looking delicious. Chikorita's stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten a meal this big in almost two days. And, she thought, if they really were malevolent, would they really be feeding her food? It wasn't like it was laced with poison; they were all eating from the same unaltered batch of pasta, after all.

Feeling tentatively trustworthy, Chikorita approached the kitchen table, Froakie by her side. She sat down in one of the chairs in the center of the table, with Greninja and Froakie sitting on either side of her, Froakie to the left, Greninja to the right. Around Chikorita's neck were small buds that she had the ability to extend into vines. She did just that the pick up the fork, twirl it around, and eat the pasta. It was so tasty, so indescribably tasty. After two days of practically no food, this was an absolute blessing.

She looked up while she was chewing and stopped, her eyes meeting Greninja's amused ones. He was smiling at her, not out of obligation, or charity, or as an adult would a child that has just discovered something incredible to them that really isn't that incredible at all. It was a smile Chikorita was all too familiar with. It was the smile a father gave to their child that told them that they cared about them. A smile Meganium had worn so many times. For her to see such a small thing as that as beautiful, and something that she knew she needed at that moment…

Chikorita swallowed the pasta and looked up at Greninja thankfully. She knew he could see the tears standing out in her eyes. He had gone from smiling at her to giving her a sympathetic, almost sorrowful, look. She didn't want to cry again, but there was no way to stop herself. "Thank you," she wept, bowing her head. She glanced over at Froakie, who was looking at her in the same way his father was. "Thank you both."

And in her heart, Chikorita truly did trust them. They may not have been part of the same Nation as she was, and they may have been part of the people that would be keeping her in Aquarius for the next while. But there was no malicious intent in any of this, she realized. This was because they _wanted_ to help her, not because they _needed_ to. That fact, and the fact that she had been so mistrusting of these people who were offering her food, water, shelter, and the chance to go home soon without any negative repercussions… it made her want to hit herself.

And if they were tricking her? She truly doubted it. Not if they were housing Fire Nation trainees that seemed comfortable where they were, or if they're sympathy for what she had lost was so genuine. This wasn't some trick. This was reality. And the reality was that people were a lot better than Chikorita had given many of them credit for. For a split instant, her mind went back to Krookodile and Tyrunt, to what Krookodile had said before she left them both. _May your life be virtuous._ It was like an omen of the times to come. And now, here she was.

"You know," Froakie said, speaking up after a few moments of silence from everyone at the table, "if you want to, you can sleep in my room."

Greninja gave Froakie a harsh, almost rebuking look. Realizing the implications that his suggestion held, his face turned red, and Chikorita almost burst out laughing. "N-no!" he said, glancing over at her as he defended himself. "Dad, c'mon! We could make a bed for her on my floor. I just don't want her to be alone, not after losing her family like that."

Chikorita felt a bit of pain in her heart, but she remained silent. Greninja looked ponderous, thinking over his son's suggestion. Then he turned to Chikorita. "Do you want to sleep close to someone?" he asked.

Chikorita looked over at Froakie for a moment. His face gave away nothing that he was thinking, but she knew that he was feeling embarrassment at his father's interpretation of his suggestion. At last, she sighed. "If it would be okay," she said, "I'd be fine sleeping on the floor."

"Nonsense," Greninja scoffed. "I have a spare mattress in my closet. You can sleep on that. Well, not _in_ the closet, but… oh you get what I mean." Then he turned his attention to his son, whose face was still unreadable. "I was just joking, you know."

"Yeah," Froakie said, "but you didn't need to go embarrassing me like that."

Greninja laughed. "I'm your father, and you're my son. It's my job." Then he turned his attention back to Chikorita. "So," he said. "Anything you'd like to talk about?"

Chikorita didn't know what to say. But Greninja, thankfully, did. As they were eating, he discussed how the Water Nation had recently been in a large battle with the Fire Nation. The Water Nation had allied themselves with Ground Nation, Senators Empoleon and Garchomp on each side solidifying the deal. He also told her of how the plan had been to eliminate Garchomp, given that he was one of the most powerful Ground Nation soldier, and the most powerful Senator in all of the Nation in general.

"The plan was," Greninja explained, "to corner him in the confusion and slice his throat open. Kill him, I meant. I'm sorry, I know you're eating, don't want to disgust you with the details. But it doesn't matter, because it didn't exactly go our way."

He told Chikorita of the betrayal Garchomp had committed against the Water Nation as he was getting her a second plate of pasta. Well, he admitted, "betrayal" wasn't really the right word, considering the Water Nation was going to do the same to the Ground Nation anyways. But it was as close to the right word as Greninja could get. This rendered Empoleon gravely injured, his stomach split open by the powerful Ground Nation Senator.

"Thank Arceus for those Fire Nation kids," Greninja said. "They were the ones who saved him and got him back to Aquarius just in time. From what our head medic, Simipour, tells me, if he'd bled for even a few minutes more, he might not have lived to see another day."

"So that's why the Fire Nation trainees are here?" she guessed. "For like, what, a reward?"

"No," Greninja replied, getting a second plate of pasta for himself. "There's no good reason for them being here. Their parents are dead, and from what Feraligatr's told me, Furnace is in shambles."

"That's… I don't even know what to say," she admitted.

Greninja sighed, sitting down with his new plate of pasta. "Nothing to say, it seems," he said. "We just keep going on."

When dinner was over, Chikorita helped in whatever way she could to get the mattress out from Greninja's closet. She tied some of her vines around the middle of the mattress while Greninja and Froakie carried it from the opposite ends. At one point, Froakie's hands began to slip on the mattress, and it almost fell out of his hands. Luckily, Chikorita had spotted his struggled, and used more of her vines to help him on his side. He nodded at her thankfully, and she nodded back.

When the mattress was finally settled in the room, just at the base of Froakie's bed, Greninja got some blue blankets and put them on the mattress. The small bed was now just about the same color as the dark blue floor on which she would be (practically) sleeping.

When the bed was made, Greninja stretched, cracking his fingers in the process. "It's late," he said. "And I need to be up early tomorrow. I'll let you two sleep in, since there's really nothing that you can do tomorrow anyway."

"Where are you going tomorrow morning?" Froakie inquired.

"Council wants to see me," Greninja said. "Something about dealing with the aftermath of yesterday's battle in the Blue… Red… the Desert. A lot of the citizens are thoroughly spooked right now, and everyone's on edge. We'll be discussing ways we can counteract that. They've invited me, Kabutops, and Lady Golduck to chime in. I think it's because Empoleon's too injured to make it to the meeting and Suicune won't be there either. I don't know where she is or what she's doing, but apparently it's important enough to not be in the capital at the time. Oh, I'm rambling. I'll leave you two to go to sleep. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, dad!" Froakie called back as Greninja sauntered down the hallway. "Love you!"

"Love you too," Greninja called back. Then his bedroom door slammed shut, and all was silent for a moment.

"Well," Froakie said after a moment, "I guess it's time to go to bed."

Chikorita nodded, feeling awkward. He must have too, she realized. They didn't know each other at all, yet here they were, together in the same room. Silently, she got under the covers of her bed, not even waiting to see what Froakie was going to do. She closed her eyes, and felt sleep overtake her instantly before Froakie had even shut off the light to his room.

And then she was back there, seeing it happen all over again.

The screams of her Grass Nation companions were everywhere, but all she saw were bodies littered on the ground. Every one of them was bloodied and mangled, all of them twisted into new, horrid shapes. Her father and sister were among them, right in front of her, their necks twisted at odd angles, the only wounds being two deep, bleeding spots in the center of their throats. She turned from them, not wanting to see their corpses, unwilling to bear witness to their bodies. But what she saw when she turned around wasn't any better.

Ivy City was on fire. Every single building that stretched into the sky had burst in an enormous inferno of flames. She backed away, watching as the fire grew and stretched into the sky. The flames lapped at the night, reaching for the stars. She fell backwards abruptly, crying out as she tripped over her father's bent neck. She fell to the ground with a thump, and immediately tried to get back up. But she was stuck. Her legs had somehow given out.

Then she heard the whirring. The horrible, drill-like sound that was drawing ever closer to her, and she knew she was dead but she had to try to get up before Rhyperior got hold of, her before he could killer her, before he could do what he'd done to her family. To her city. To everything. Before. Before!

"Chikorita!"

Her father, calling out to her from the grave.

"Chikorita!"

No. Not her father. It was a male voice. Someone else.

"Chikorita! Wake up!"

Chikorita sat up, realizing with a start that she was shaking and out of breath. She felt something touch her, and she almost screamed. But she whirled around, and Froakie was there. "It's okay," he said. "It's alright."

She couldn't help herself. She embraced him, and he wrapped his arms around her. The moment lasted eons in her mind, the best eons she had felt in while. Then it was gone, and he was standing back up. "I'm just above you if you need anything," he said.

"Wait," Chikorita said, feeling almost embarrassed by what she was about to ask. But he waited. He was going to listen. "Could I… could I sleep in your bed with you tonight?"

He looked at her quizzically, causing her to become defensive in her suggestion. "I mean, I just… I don't want to be alone right now."

Froakie considered this for a moment, then sighed. "Fine," he said. "But don't hog all the space."

The two of them got under the covers at the same time. They looked at each other for just a moment, and Chikorita could feel something stirring inside of her. Perhaps it was the way he looked at her, the sympathy, the real, raw sympathy that made her feel that way. And perhaps the exhaustion made her feel that way too. She pushed it to the back of her head and closed her eyes, careful not to press against Froakie as she drifted off to sleep. The visions of her dead father and sister did not return.


	29. Froakie II

**Froakie**

Froakie awoke to beams of sunlight blinding him. He squinted, sitting up in bed, trying to see clearly, blinking to get the sleep out of his eyes. At last, he could see clearly. He could also feel, quite easily, something leaning against his arm. He looked to his right, and was almost startled to see Chikorita lying next to him, her cheek pressed against his arm, her face holding on it a small and almost unnoticeable smile. Whatever dreams she was having, they were definitely better than the ones she had woken up to last night.

Froakie had been slowly dragged out of his sleep in the middle of the night. He didn't know how long it had taken, but by the time he was fully awake, he could hear her mutterings. Well, "mutterings" weren't the exact words. It sounded as though she was trying to scream, a small, barely noticeable squeaking sound emanating from the back of her throat as she shook on her bed. Instantly, Froakie had jumped out of his bed, scared that perhaps Chikorita was having a seizure of some kind.

But, luckily, it had just been nightmares. When he had woken her up, he knew that she would have attacked him had he not been someone she knew. When he had finally calmed her (though he didn't know how long he had stayed with her, given that he and she were both half-asleep at the time), he had gotten up, assuming that she would call upon him if she needed something else. He knew he would be waking up again if she had another nightmare; it wouldn't pass over his radar for so long if it happened a second time.

Instead, though, she had timidly asked if she could sleep in his bed with him. He, being fairly exhausted and also not really wanting to have to get out of bed again in the middle of the night, decided that it wouldn't harm either of them for her to sleep in the same bed as him. He had expected her to hog the covers, something he had told her to avoid doing, but she hadn't. In fact, sleeping with a companion in the bed was much more comfortable than sleeping alone, especially a companion of his size.

And now he was here, in a comfortable sleeping position, Chikorita's face pressed against his arm, his skin tickling when her breath escaped. He smiled a bit, feeling easy, and much more comfortable and stress-free than he had been in… well, Arceus, in a _long_ time. Just to have someone to sleep with him was enough. _I could get used to this_ , he thought.

He pushed _that_ heinous, almost criminal thought, out of his mind as quickly as he possibly could. What the hell had he just thought? No, not that. Anything but that! He could get used to a companion in his bed, sure, but it couldn't be her. It could never be her. They were trainees of different Nations that, within a week's time, would never see one another again. There was no use even _trying_ to get used to this, he realized, and not only because she would be gone within a week. Also because his father would never even _approve_ of the two of them sleeping in the same bed, even if it was nothing but platonic.

At that moment in his thoughts, Chikorita snuggled even closer to him. His mind screamed at him to back away, to even get off the bed and to close the door until Chikorita awoke so that his father wouldn't get suspicious (even though nothing was going on). But, he realized, he didn't _want_ to leave the bed. In fact, he _liked_ her snuggling so close to him. He felt almost protected in a way. But at the same time, he felt like a protector. It was as though they were equal to one another, a yin and yang that formed some sort of beautiful-

 _Oh for the love of Arceus, stop it!_

Froakie shook his head and moved a little ways away from Chikorita. At that moment, he head flopped down, landing just below the pillow and on the mattress. Froakie sucked in a breath, hoping, almost praying, that she wouldn't wake up, only because he didn't know whether or not she would be able to remember clearly what happened the other night, and he was afraid of what she might say when she discovered where she was now sleeping.

But she did not wake up. She sighed, turned over, and was breathing her steady sleep-breath once again. Froakie let out a sigh of relief, and his heart relaxed. His heart then immediately sped up and almost leapt out of his chest when he realized Greninja was staring at him in the doorway, his arms folded, his face taking on a look of amusement. "I told you I was only joking," he said.

Froakie sighed and slid off the bed. "I know what it looks like," Froakie said hurriedly, "but I can explain."

"No need," his father replied, holding up and hand to signal Froakie to go on no more. "I heard your entire conversation last night. I think it was for the best, actually. She's just so… so broken."

Froakie looked over at Chikorita, who was still sound asleep. "Yeah," he said. "She's so nice, too. She didn't deserve to have her father and sister just… scooped off the face of the planet like that."

Greninja sighed. "So much in this life isn't fair," he said. "So many of the good die young and so many of the evil live forever. Justice is just a thing of the past, it seems. One minute, all is cheery and the next…" Greninja sighed. Froakie looked at his father sympathetically. He knew who he was thinking about, and Froakie's heart broke into tiny fragments every time his father talked about her.

Froakie knew his father was caught off guard when he hugged him, but it didn't matter to Froakie. It didn't matter to Greninja after a moment either, for his wrapped his arms around his son, just as lovingly as his son wrapped his arms around him. After a few seconds of their father and son embrace, Froakie pulled back. "You looked like you needed it," he said.

Greninja turned away, wiping his eyes with his arm. "Yeah," he said, turning back to his son as he spoke. "Yeah… I guess I did."

Greninja cleared his throat, then looked down at Froakie with authoritative seriousness. "But we do need to talk about a more pressing matter."

"What?" Froakie asked, suddenly remembering the meeting Greninja had attended with other Great Warriors and two members of the Council. Had something happened? Was something being planned?

"Well," Greninja said, "we've come to a conclusion as to how to ease the tension of the past few days for the citizens of the city. We're going to be holding a dinner party at the dining hall. It's a fairly big space, roughly a quarter of a mile in diameter, so it should work out fine for anyone that wants to come by. Feraligatr's going to be hosting it. There's going to be a few things there that are rather… important."

At the mention of important things, Froakie saw his dad's gaze dart over towards Chikorita. Then it was back on his son. "For one, the Grass and Fire Nation trainees are going to be publically introduced to the city. Sort of as a way to show that they won't be here forever. Then there's going to be a commemoration for Senator Empoleon, maybe a few other soldiers that fought in the battle at the Desert. And then there will just be more talk."

"That sounds nice," Froakie said, though a part of him was worried. He came to accept at that moment that he had grown to care about the trainees that were now living within the Water Nation's borders. Even Chikorita, who he had not even known for a full day, seemed like someone he would be willing to call his friend. What would the public think of them, just based on knowing who they were and nothing else?

Froakie's fears were addressed (and made a bit more fearful) by Greninja's next remark. "We've also decided to allow the trainees, so long as they're under you and Piplup's supervision, to leave the houses before the party, so as to sort of adopt them as a normality for the time being."

Froakie shook his head. "No, dad, you can't be serious! A crowd of angry citizens would tear these guys apart! You already saw what they did to Chikorita, and look at that bandage on her! She's clearly been injured somehow, but they were still willing to berate and distrust her for being Grass Nation!"

"I know," Greninja replied calmly. "I didn't want that either. But… majority rules."

Froakie sighed. "Fine," he said. "I guess we'll meet up with Piplup and the others sometime soon.

Greninja nodded. "That's up to you," he said. "No one is forcing you and her to go out there. But if you think that's something that can be done, something that would be okay with you even if you don't agree with it, then do it if you wish."

"Maybe," Froakie said, looking back at Chikorita.

Then, he realized it with a start. Bandages. He looked over at his father. "What about her bandages?" he inquired. "Will someone be able to change them?"

"Yes," Greninja said, snapping his fingers. "Right! I nearly forgot! Simipour will be here any minute to replace Chikorita's bandages."

Froakie nodded. Good. That was good. He looked back at the sleeping figure in the bed again. He studied her hard, studied her complexion, that small (dare he say "cute") little smile on her face. He thought back to her, and who she was, of what little he knew about her. And he came to startling realization, one that he hoped his father wouldn't see spread across his face. And the realization was that he _did_ want to get used to laying in that bed with her. That he didn't want her to leave, and that, when she eventually did leave, he would cry his sorry heart out.

And that realization filled him with both joyousness and dread.


	30. Tepig IV

**Tepig**

Tepig had promised Quilava that he would come to visit Monferno with him tomorrow. That was yesterday. Tepig hadn't anticipated Quilava's unexpected arrival in his hospital room at the crack of dawn, which irritated the hell out of him. He also hadn't expected him to practically bust the door down and announce himself with a loud, "Hey there, Tepig!" That alone had nearly startled him out of his bed. Not out of his sleep though, but he would let Quilava think that he had been asleep.

No, Tepig hadn't slept even for a few minutes last night. He had tried to, and truly wanted to, but he couldn't get his current of tumultuous thoughts under control. It was as though he were in a maelstrom, and that it was pulling him in all different directions as he flew through the air. He couldn't get the image of Ponyta's squashed head out of his mind, for one. He also couldn't get Fennekin out of his mind, especially that fact that his entire love for her was a lie. And, most prominently, he couldn't get over the fact that Quilava and Monferno looked so happy together, even though Monferno was paralyzed from the waist down. And he _especially_ couldn't get over the fact that that was something he knew he would never feel.

But that didn't matter to Quilava, because Quilava didn't understand the pain Tepig was constantly in. He didn't understand what it was like to feel so empty. He may have felt panic, or sadness, or grief when Monferno was paralyzed. But, to Tepig, that situation that they were in was his perfect opportunity to tell Monferno how much he loved him. And he had used it to his advantage, and it had worked, and even though there was death and destruction all around him, he hardly noticed. Because he had Monferno.

But whatever, Tepig decided. Whatever. Quilava could live in his fantastical lovey-dovey world for as long as he wanted. Tepig really didn't care one way or another who Quilava loved, or how that love was demonstrated. Tepig only cared that _he_ would have to be caught in the middle of it today, and with no sleep as an added bonus. _If it keeps up like this, I'll be dead by next week_ , Tepig thought. _And, hey, maybe that won't be such a bad thing_.

Shaking this out of his mind (or at least tricking himself into thinking that he had done just that), Tepig hopped out of his bed. It took him a minute to steady himself, and he barely heard what Quilava said to him, but once he was fully up, he was wide awake as well. He looked Quilava in the face, and nodded. "Let's go see him," he said.

Quilava nodded back, then turned and walked out into the halls. Tepig walked after him, careful of his balance as he followed. After the attack from Ground Nation, everything had returned to normal. Well, as normal as normal could get after a situation such as that attack. There were more free rooms than there had been before, as many of the ailing patients, including a crabby yet kind-hearted Simisear, had been killed. The Ground Nation had spared no expense, it seemed, indiscriminately killing soldiers and civilians, men, women, and children alike. But everything, aside from those deaths, had returned to the best state of normal the Nation could be in at this point.

After what seemed like no time at all, Tepig and Quilava were standing directly in front of Monferno's hospital room. Quilava glanced over at Tepig, a bit on edge, it seemed. "Do you know if Fennekin is coming too?" he asked.

Tepig rolled his eyes. He didn't want to deal with this shit right now. "I don't know, it's not like she's glued to me every single second of the day."

"Right," Quilava said, staring at the door once again. After a while, Tepig was ready to make yet another snarky, sarcastic remark, when Quilava finally pushed the door open. The room was dark, as was understandable given how early it was. Tepig could see Monferno's silhouette, visible in the faded light of the morning sun seeping through the translucent curtain. Mofnerno's head turned towards the two of them, and Tepig suddenly knew why he was sitting up. He hadn't slept that night either, Tepig was sure of it.

His suspicions were confirmed once Quilava turned on the light to the room. Monferno sat there, staring at them. His eyes held dark bags beneath them, as well as tear tracks, both of which Tepig could empathize with. Tepig could almost feel the alarm radiating off of Quilava. "Monferno," Quilava said, walking up to the bed while Tepig stayed behind, a few paces from the door. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," Monferno said shakily, wiping the tears from his eyes. Tepig could tell that he had been crying very recently, perhaps had even been weeping just before he'd heard Quilava speak at the door.

Quilava put one of his front paws on Monferno's hand. "It's okay," he said. "Just tell me."

Monferno looked at Quilava. He glanced over at Tepig, too, though Tepig didn't really care whether or not he acknowledged his existence. In fact, had he not looked over, it would have been easier to just slip out while the two of them talked. Because right now, he felt like an intruder spying on something he shouldn't be digging his nose into. But, nonetheless, he had been invited, and so he would stay until the two of them told him or implied otherwise.

"I just feel so useless!" Monferno burst out, making even Tepig jump. Monferno continued to rant. "I didn't sleep at all last night, because I just keep thinking about how I must look to everyone! Monferno, the trainee with all the potential, the one who was going to be just as good as Sir Infernape, the greatest Great Warrior the Fire Nation has seen in years aside from Arcanine. And now look at where I am! I'm useless, Quilava, don't you get that? I can never be what I want to be! This room is my home for the _rest of my life_!"

Monferno cried into his hands while Quilava looked on in sadness. Before Tepig could even yell at him in his mind to comfort him, he did. Quilava sat down on the bed. Then he was laying on the bed, holding Monferno close to him. Monferno's arms wrapped around him and his head buried into Quilava's shoulder, wetting it with tears.

Quilava spoke. "Listen," he said. "I don't care who thinks you're useless. If someone thinks so, does it matter? Monferno, you are the person that I live for. My whole life, ever since we were Cyndaquil and Chimchar, I've loved you. And not because you were the trainee with the most potential, but because of who you were. Who you _are_. Monferno, I love you for you."

Monferno took his head off his shoulders and looked into Quilava's eyes. "How do I know you're not lying?" he countered. Tepig groaned inwardly. "How do I know you don't just make fun of me behind my back?"

"Because," Quilava said, "I love you. I love you more than you'll ever know, Monferno, because words can't even express how much I love you. I would give up everything for you, as you are now, because you are beautiful."

Monferno barked a laugh. "That was the corniest thing I've ever heard," he replied.

Quilava's smile widened. "That doesn't change the fact that it's true."

Their lips met, and tears streamed down Monferno's face as they kissed. Tepig watched, feeling it again, that feeling of desire to be with someone like that, someone that could make him as happy as Monferno made Quilava and vice versa. As the two of them kissed, Quilava opened his eyes wide. The urgency in them told Tepig to go. Tepig couldn't be any more relieved.

As he shut the door behind him and slumped against the wall next to it, he felt as though he were going to cry. Something like that, something as perfect as the love between those two, made him want to cry until he could do so no more. It was almost like something out a fairy tale, something that proved that true happiness was possible. The only question for Tepig, though, was whether or not he was going to be able to achieve it.

"Tepig!"

He heard her shout and almost grimaced as she approached. Fennekin; he thought she was a good friend but nothing more, and was reminded of that when she approached him, he feeling nothing but emptiness inside for her appearance and talking with her. Why couldn't he just tell her the truth? He didn't want to shatter her heart, he truly didn't. She was his friend, after all, and he didn't want to be on bad terms with her. But still, how much longer could he live like this?

But he smiled this time, and said "Hey." She smiled back, a smile that he knew should have evoked some sort of emotion in him, but just didn't. Before she could say anything else, he gave her an explanation as to why he was where he was. "Quilava wanted me to go with him to visit Monferno. They're in there… right now."

"Oh," Fennekin said. "Oh, okay. Wouldn't want to walk in on that. I was actually coming to find you. Charizard and Blaziken wanted me to visit them today, to ask me a few questions about Charmander and Torchic. I… ugh, I just really don't want to be there alone when I disappoint them."

Tepig nodded. "Of course I'll come," he said. Her face lit up, and she talked about it all the way down to their room. It made Tepig wish he had to capacity to blow his brains out. _That's a pretty mean thought_ , he thought. Then again, he'd had plenty of other nastier thoughts directed to himself, so did a thought that petty actually matter? Tepig knew not.

They opened the door to the hospital room, where Charizard and Blaziken had been propped up. Though the two of them had a lot of bandages and medical equipment surrounding them, the fire in their eyes revealed how revitalized they felt, even after a few days of rest. They both looked confident, yet also worried. Tepig knew that confidence would quickly drain when they realized that Fennekin had nothing to say.

"Hello, Tepig," Charizard said, nodding to him. "How are you doing?"

"As well as anyone at this time, Senator," Tepig said formally.

"You know, you don't _need_ to address me like that," Charizard said. "My son's a good friend of you, the both of you. I know how worrying this situation is."

"Don't worry about me," Tepig said. "I can't say I know what it's like to lose a son. I want to help to get my friends back in any way that I can."

Charizard looked surprised at the maturity with which Tepig had spoken to him. "Well, then," Charizard said, turning his attention to Fennekin. "Is there anything that you can tell us about the battle involving Charmander or Torchic? Anything at all that might help us?"

Fennekin thought back. "Well," she started, "I know that their transport vehicle was blown up at the start of the battle. I know they survived that, though."

"Yes," Blaziken said, "they did. I saw them on the battlefield just before the sandstorm hit. Do you remember seeing them at any time during the storm?"

"No," Fennekin said, lowering her head in shame. "No, I didn't. I ended up getting into a transport vehicle with a few other soldiers who started it when the retreat began. I didn't see them. I'm really sorry."

"Don't be," Charizard said, but Tepig could tell by the weary disappointment that was now in his voice that she had reason to be. "It's not your fault that they're gone. Thank you."

"No problem," Fennekin said, bowing her head. Then she turned around and left. Tepig bowed his head as well, and left to catch up with her.

But before he caught up with her, he overheard a small snippet of Charizard and Blaziken's conversation as he left. He didn't know what the make of it exactly, but it gave him chills when he heard it.

"And you're sure of it?" Charizard asked.

"That's what he said," Blaziken replied. "Admitted it right in front of everyone. He said, 'For the Reapers.'"


	31. Torchic III

**Torchic**

Torchic opened her eyes to see sunlight streaming in from the window above her. She shook her head, trying to fight the urge to fall back down on the pillow and go back to sleep. She managed to, staring around her with wide awake eyes, looking at the rays of sunlight that shone down upon her and realizing how late it was. It had to be at least mid-morning, not just because of the power of the sun that shone through the window, but the fact that Charmander was gone. Charmander always woke up right around the same time, just around the time the sun was in the sky. With him gone, it was obvious she had slept in.

But she knew she wouldn't be blamed for doing a thing like that, not after all of the crap that had happened these past two days. Two days. That's all it had been, yet it felt like eons to her. And it wasn't over yet, and wouldn't be over soon. She knew that much. After their conversation with Feraligatr last night, she had the suspicion that she and Charmander may never go home again.

After Charmander had told Piplup that the Fire Nation didn't have any hologram callers, a look of fear and confusion had cross the Water Nation trainee's face. Here he had been, thinking that Feraligatr was a loyal Senator that always put the Water Nation first; but now he knew otherwise. Now he held the same suspicion that Torchic and Charmander held. Feraligatr, quite obviously now, was hiding something. Something big. Something… _troubling._

 _I guess we'll just have to figure it out on our own,_ Torchic decided. _It's not like anybody else knows about whatever Feraligatr's keeping from the Nation. He's a lone Absol at this point. No way is he going to crack._

Torchic jumped off the bed, suddenly feeling cold. The bed had been so warm, especially with Charmander in it beside her. She hadn't felt safe, though, not even with him pressed against her. That was another reason she'd woken up late; she'd barely slept, thinking in the stillness of the night about Feraligatr, about what he might have been planning.

Torchic walked down the stairs, looking over her shoulder into the kitchen as she did so. Empoleon sat at the head of the table, smiling up at her. "Well, good morning!" he said. "For a while there we thought you weren't going to wake up at all!"

Torchic smiled back. Then, it faltered when her eyes swiveled over to Charmander and Piplup's faces. The two of them were looking at her grimly, as though they had just received bad news. Charmander shook his head slightly, but she wasn't sure what directions he was trying to give her. She looked back up at Empoleon, then at them again. _Everything's fine_ , she thought. _That's the way Empoleon has to think right now. Everything's fine._

Torchic walked off the last step of the staircase, turned left, and walked towards the kitchen. "So," she said. "What does today bring?"

Empoleon smiled. "Well, good news," he said. Torchic looked over at the grim faces of her friends again. Empoleon didn't notice her looking nor their expressions, and so continued. "For one, if you'd like to, you can leave the house now, so long as you stay with Piplup. Not everyone is as trusting of you two as I and he is, but I can assure you that, if any harm comes to you, the Council will have a harsh punishment waiting for the criminal."

Torchic bowed her head. Was that really _bad_ news? She didn't think so. A bit worrying, as Empoleon would expect them to go outside, sure. But enough to warrant the gloomy masks worn by her companions? No. There was something else. And Empoleon was taking in a breath. Then he was telling her.

"We're also going to be having a little dinner party at Aquarius' dining hall," Empoleon said. "Well, not really 'little' per say, as the whole city is invited. The Council wanted to ease the tension of the last few days. Part of it is, also, we don't want the citizens of Aquarius to feel afraid in their own home. Which is why we want to publicly address you two during the dinner."

Torchic's heart galloped. Sure, it was nerve-wracking, and she was sure to be tense if they decided to put her up so the whole of Water Nation's finest could see. But did that really warrant her friends having such dark complexions. She didn't think so. There was something else going on.

Then, he said it; "Feraligatr's going to be hosting it, and since you all already know him, I'm sure he'll be able to vouch for you if anyone in the crowd decides to start booing you."

Torchic barely heard anything Empoleon said after the revelation. Feraligatr. Hosting a dinner party. Everyone from Aquarius there.

She hid her fear behind a smile. "Sounds like a good time," she said. Empoleon nodded, then turned to face the other two sitting at the table. They too were wearing smiles now, though Piplup's looked so fake that Torchic grimaced at the sight of it. Empoleon, however, took no notice of his son's true feelings of the evening to come.

Turning back to face Torchic, he waved his flipper out in front of him, indicating the kitchen table. "Well, you go ahead and eat," he said. "I have to use the bathroom. You kids wait here before going out anywhere, okay?"

"We know, dad," Piplup responded.

"I know," Empoleon said, and began to lumber away.

Immediately, Torchic sat down. "He looks like he's doing better," she remarked.

Piplup nodded, looking back, watching as his father walked away from them. When he was out of sight, they still waited. Then, they heard the bathroom door close and lock. Piplup turned back towards his companions. "What the hell is going on?" he asked.

"I don't know," Charmander admitted. "But we need to be careful. If Feraligatr's lying about calling the Fire Nation, then things aren't going to be good at that dinner party tonight."

"But who the hell is going to keep an eye on him?" Torchic interjected. "He's a well-renowned Senator of the Water Nation. No one's going to question his validity at all!"

"Why is he lying?" Piplup asked, as though thinking out loud. "He's one of the most loyal members of the Nation we have. He's always putting the citizens first. How could he just all of a sudden turn around like that and lie to everyone?"

"Well, there's one thing for sure," Torchic said. "We need to make sure no one hears about this, especially Totodile."

"What?" Charmander asked, giving her a confused glare. "Why _shouldn't_ we tell anyone about this?"

"Don't you see what would happen?" Torchic said. "You and I are the ones that got suspicious in the first place. If we say anything about Feraligatr, they'll think its Fire Nation trainees attempting to slander their most respected Senator. If Piplup says anything, then not only does he lose Totodile as a friend, but he looks like a Fire Nation sympathizer. A traitor."

"So there's no one we can tell, then?" Charmander said. "No one we can warn if something bad does happen at the dinner."

Torchic sighed. "No," she said. "No, there isn't. We just have to stick together and make sure that none of us wander off."

"We need to tell Froakie," Piplup said. "I know we can't tell Totodile or anyone else in the Nation. But we have to at least tell Froakie. He's like a brother to me, I can't just keep him in the dark about something like this."

"Then by extension we need to tell Chikorita, too" Charmander said. He put his head on his arm and sighed. "This is just crazy."

"There's a good chance nothing's going to happen," Torchic said. "If something does happen to us or Chikorita, in a public place no less, then it starts a war between Water Nation and either Fire or Grass. And since Feraligatr doesn't know anything about the state of either Nation, and probably won't until around the time we all go home, he's not going to do anything tonight."

"Still, him hosting this whole thing doesn't sit right with me," Charmander said.

"Of course it doesn't sit right with _us_ ," Piplup interjected. "We're suspicious of him. But to everyone else, it's normal. My dad's head of the Council and he's out of commission. Head Council Advisor is Feraligatr, so of course he's going to be the one to host this thing. Plus, he's most respected, like I said, so it's not a wonder people wouldn't want to see his face."

Charmander slumped down in his seat. He looked ready to say something, and Torchic knew what it was just before it leapt from his mouth. "Maybe we're digging into this too deep."

Piplup turned and looked at him. "Maybe," he agreed. "But if anything's going on, I still want Froakie to know."

Charmander nodded, just as the sound of Empoleon lumbering back into the room came into earshot. He looked around at them, smiling. "So," the Water Nation Senator asked, "are you three going out today?"

"Yeah," Piplup said. "I think we're going to meet Froakie and Chikorita, maybe get something from the pastry shop down the street."

"That sounds like an excellent idea!" Empoleon exclaimed. "Just be careful, alright?"

"Of course," Piplup nodded.

Torchic's heart was racing. Had they actually uncovered some sort of conspiracy within the Water Nation? She seriously hoped not. But still, with Feraligatr's lies, she couldn't be sure of anything. What made her more suspicious, though, was the hologram caller he said he had. If he wasn't lying about that, that meant he was communicating with someone outside of the Water Nation. Someone from _another Nation_.

 _If Feraligatr's lying about Fire Nation and actually does have a hologram caller,_ Torchic thought, _then how deep does it go?_


	32. Charmander X

**Charmander**

"Be careful now!" Empoleon said. "And make sure to be back here for supper!"

"We will!" Piplup responded cheerily. Charmander was impressed with how well he was able to disguise his nervousness. Meanwhile here he was, hoping, praying that Empoleon wouldn't turn to talk to him, just in case a look in his eyes or the movements of his face gave away what he was feeling. And he was scared they would; if Empoleon knew something was wrong, he would ask. And what would Charmander say? Something about his father being dead? Would Empoleon see through that?

 _Stop overthinking it,_ he told himself, taking in a deep breath. _It's your nerves that are making you feel this way, that's all._

Lucky for him, he didn't need to worry about what Empoleon did or did not suspect. The door shut behind the trio before Empoleon could even notice whether or not anything was wrong. Charmander looked over at Piplup, who was looking at him. "Froakie's house is just over there," Piplup said, nodding ahead of them. "Let's go. Hopefully we won't get too much attention."

Charmander nodded, though he could see by the city streets that little to no attention wasn't going to be happening. Water Nation citizens walked among them, crowds of them even in the morning. Looks passed between them, glares were exchanged, and Charmander knew all of them had to do with him and Torchic. He looked over at Torchic, who was looking around too, wary though not concerned. Charmander noted this. It was best to feel that way, especially since (at least, this is what he thought) no one would dare try to hurt them and start another conflict with the Fire Nation.

They continued upon the brick streets of the city. Faces at every turn either turned away from them or sneered at them. At one point, a large, lumbering pink beast with what looked to be a crown on its head glared at them unhappily. Piplup nodded at the figure. "Mornin' Slowking," he said.

He stopped, blocking their path. Charmander's heart was racing. Slowking; he'd heard that name passed around in conversation before. He was either a Great Warrior for the Water Nation or a Senator, he didn't know. All he knew was that he stood over them menacingly, and in his eyes Charmander saw a fire that told him they wouldn't be getting by any time soon so long as Slowking was still in control of the situation.

"My daughter tells me you were rude to her and Psyduck when they visited you yesterday," Slowking bellowed. "You mind explaining to me what that was about?"

Piplup locked eyes with the behemoth in front of him. "I was never rude to her or Psyduck," he said. "And, if I may be frank, sir, your daughter's a bitch."

Piplup walked on, moving past Slowking, not even taking a second to look at the taken-aback expression on his face. Not wanting to be left behind, Charmander picked up his pace, as did Torchic. He heard the sound of Slowking's footsteps as he lumbered away. Charmander bent in close so Piplup could hear him. "What the hell was that about?" he asked.

"Well she _is,_ " Piplup insisted. "You know what? Never mind. Let's just get to Froakie's and hope there's no more trouble on the way there."

There wasn't. When they arrived, Piplup knocked on the door. Almost instantly, Greninja opened the door to the house. "Well, I wasn't expecting you for another good hour or so," he admitted. "But, nonetheless, you're here now, so come on in!"

Charmander and Torchic nodded their thanks. As they entered the house, Charmander noticed how blue it looked. The rug was especially notable, being just as blue as he expected the sea to be. Greninja's house had an air of nationalism to it, one that Charmander could respect considering the warrior's stature within the Nation. There were three figures in the kitchen; first, Froakie, who sat at the end of the table. Chikorita was also there, getting her bandages changed by a blue humanoid Pokémon. It took Charmander a moment to realize it was Simipour, one of the medics that had taken care of Emploeon when they had first arrived in Aquarius.

"Charmander, Torchic," Greninja said. "This is Simipour."

The medic turned and smiled sweetly at them both. The smile was almost motherly, and Charmander couldn't help but smile back. It was a strange, sweet face of safety. Her voice was also pleasant, reminding him for whatever reason of tulips. "She's almost ready," she said to the entering party. Then she turned her attention back to Chikorita. "Whoever patched you up initially did a pretty good job at it. Must've been trained in the basics."

"Yes," Chikorita replied, and said no more about the subject.

"And… done!" Simipour exclaimed. She smiled her sweet smile at Chikorita, then stood up from the table. "I really must be going," she explained, exhaustion suddenly weighing heavily on her voice. "There are still a lot of patients from the battle that need serious tending to."

"It's no trouble at all," Greninja said. "You're a dedicated medic. The Water Nation would be apt to fall apart without you."

"Oh, stop it!" Simipour said, blushing. She looked at Greninja for another long moment, then left, walked quickly past the trainees that had just entered, barely even acknowledging who they were. The door opened, then slammed behind her.

Chikorita and Froakie walked out of the kitchen and into the group. There they were, the five of them, Greninja looking over them. A smile crossed his face. "You be careful now," he said. "Watch out for one another, alright?"

"Of course we will," Froakie said. "No worries. Love you, dad."

"I love you too."

With that, the group was out, the door shut behind them, and Aquarius open to them. And now came the hard part, the part Charmander was scared of; the progression of their friendships and their fears.

"So, where are we going?" Froakie asked.

"Pastry shop down the street," Piplup replied. "Then, somewhere quiet. We need to talk."

"Talk? We could talk there," Froakie suggested.

"No," Charmander interjected. "We can't. Not about this. Not about what we think we've found out."

Chikorita lifted her head, her eyes filled with fear, but she said nothing. Froakie looked at the trio that knew carefully, almost cautiously. "What do you mean 'found out'? What, like, a conspiracy?"

Piplup looked at Froakie gravely. Froakie's eyes widened in shock. He took a few steps closer to Piplup and leaned in, whispering, though Charmander was still able to clearly hear what he said. "What, like, traitors in the nation?"

Piplup looked down at his feet. "Let's just get something to eat first."

"No, dammit!" Froakie shouted. A few citizens walking by looked at them out of the corners of their eyes, though they said nothing and continued to walk by. The drama of the young didn't concern them, so they didn't stop the pay any attention. Froakie kept shouting, and only the five of them truly heard him. "I'm tired of you bottling everything up inside! I'm sick of it, Piplup! I'm sick of seeing you go through all of this by yourself! Your brother, for one, saying it's your fault when it's not! And seeing you go through that, to the point where you see nothing in the world but darkness it just… it breaks me inside! You're my brother, Piplup! Can I say that? You are my _brother!_ And I just… I don't know…" Froakie trailed off, looking down at his own feet.

Piplup sighed. The two of them stood in silence for moments. Charmander knew it wasn't right to interrupt something like this. But he had to. They were wasting time. "Froakie," he said, and Froakie's head lifted. "I understand you're concerned for Piplup. But that's not what we're here about. You two can talk about that later. There's no more time to waste. Not after what's going to happen tonight."

"Tonight?" Froakie asked. "What the hell's so important about tonight?"

"Isn't there a better place we can discuss this?" Piplup asked.

Froakie thought for a moment. Then, he shook his head. "No, not really," he said. "If we stay still, right here, let people pass us, then maybe we won't be heard."

"Maybe," Piplup agreed. "But… dammit, if people knew what we were so suspicious about…"

"Well, what is it?" Froakie asked impatiently. "Spit it out for Arceus' sake!"

"Feraligatr," Torchic said. Everyone turned to look at her. Piplup looked shocked most of all. Charmander thought that perhaps he was hoping they would have time to get to a better place, to get somewhere more secluded. But no; it was out there now; they just had to talk.

"What about him?" Froakie asked.

"He's hosting that dinner party whatever thing tonight," she said. "But… ugh, this was a terrible place to start!"

"Look, Froakie," Piplup interjected, "we don't trust him. It started out small, but now it's getting bigger. We think maybe he's lying to us."

"About what?" Froakie asked incredulously.

"The Fire Nation," Charmander said. "Everything having to do with it. He hasn't been in contact with the Fire Nation but he's told both Torchic and I that he has been. But that's completely impossible, even if he does have a hologram caller because the Fire Nation _doesn't_."

Froakie looked confused and outraged, all rolled into one strange facial expression. "Hold on just a second," he said. "What did I miss?"

"When Chikorita arrived," Torchic explained, "Feraligatr told me he'd been in contact with the Fire Nation, and that Furnace had been left in ruins after an attack from the Ground Nation. It was after that I started to get a little suspicious, mostly because he was sending an ambassador over from here to Grass Nation in order to contact them about Chikorita. He said it would take weeks to do that. So how the hell was he able to get an ambassador from here to the Fire Nation, while it was under siege no less, found out about the destruction, and came back here?"

"Oh come on!" Froakie said, disgruntled. "It's simple! He sent someone there right around the time you two got here two days ago. They went, saw the damage that had been done, and came back to report Furnace was under siege! Furnace is only a few hours away from here if you take a transport vehicle. Sure, it's a little risky to be riding a Water Nation transport vehicle through enemy territory right after a battle, but what else was supposed to happen?"

"There's more," Charmander interrupted. "Feraligatr told us our parents were dead. Not only that, but one of our friends is dead and the other one might be too. How would he know that if he sent someone out and all they saw was that the city was under siege?"

"Well," Froakie said, struggling to think up some sort of reasonable explanation. "Well… you said something about a hologram caller, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Piplup agreed. "Yeah, we did. But it's one that Feraligatr's been tampering with all on his own. And according to these two, there are no hologram callers in the Fire Nation. Unless, of course, someone has a personal one of their own and is, for some reason, hiding it from the Fire Nation Council much like Feraligatr was hiding his from ours."

"You sound like you're starting to doubt it's possible he's a traitor," Charmander said, turning towards Piplup.

"Look, there's some evidence that holds up and some that doesn't," Piplup argued. "Whatever he's doing is wrong for sure, but that doesn't mean he _hasn't_ been in contact with the Fire Nation. Maybe he knows of someone in your Nation that has a hologram caller and he's able to talk to them."

"Why would he be all buddy-buddy with someone from the Fire Nation if something else wasn't going on?" Charmander asked.

Piplup looked at him, then sighed. "Yeah," he said. "You're right. It doesn't make sense. Either he's lying about what's happened at Furnace, or he's in contact with someone in the Fire Nation for some reason. Either way, it's suspicious."

"So… what does all of this mean?" Froakie asked.

"We don't know," Torchic admitted. "But we're not too sure how tonight's going to go down, what with Feraligatr wanting to publically flaunt the three of us."

"And we don't know how deep this goes," Charmander chimed in.

Everyone turned to look at him. All eyes were bearing into him, and he suddenly felt hot and nervous. He looked over at Torchic. She was staring at him, clearly wondering what he was going to say. He sighed, and turned towards her. "We have to tell them about Garchomp," he said.

"Garchomp?" Froakie asked. "What the hell does he have to do with any of this?"

Charmander looked at Torchic. "I think I have a theory," he said. "But none of you are going to like it. Torchic, I can see it in your eyes right now, you know what I'm going to say."

She nodded. "I know," she said. "I wish it wasn't true but… but I think it makes sense, yeah."

Charmander sighed, then turned towards the four that stood in front of him. He looked at Piplup, who was staring at him, concern, curiosity, and fright all at home in his eyes. Charmander took a shaky breath. "I think Garchomp's the one Feraligatr's been talking to using the hologram caller."

"What?" Piplup asked, the look on his face telling Charmander he didn't believe him in the slightest.

"No way!" Froakie said, shaking his head. "That's crazy. It would have to be someone in Fire Nation, you know that."

"Well if Fire Nation really was attacked by the Ground Nation don't you think Garchomp would be there?" Charmander said. Everyone was silent as he continued to speak. "We don't know if Ground Nation has hologram technology. Maybe they do, though. And if they did, if _Garchomp_ did, he'd be able to call Feraligatr and tell him about all the damage done during the raid on Furnace. He'd have gotten into contact, but not with Fire Nation; with Garchomp."

"Well," Piplup argued, "what if he just didn't get into contact with anyone at all? What if the hologram caller is really just something he's tinkering with and he's just making up everything else about Fire Nation?"

"It's possible," Charmander said. "But how likely is it that it's coincidence."

"I… I guess so," Piplup said thoughtfully, though Charmander could tell he was still on the fence about whether or not Feraligatr had been in contact with anyone. He hoped this next piece of information would get them somewhere.

"There's more than one reason besides him being a common enemy that I suspect Garchomp," he said. He looked at Torchic, trying to read whether or not she would approve of what he was about to say. Her eyes told him nothing. He decided to do so anyway; staying on the same page was best for all of them. "When he killed Blaziken, he said something… he said, 'For the Reapers'"

There was a small gasp within the group. Everyone turned, looking at Chikorita. She looked at them, her eyes wide. She hadn't said a word during this conversation, Charmander realized. Now she was taking the center stage.

"It's familiar to you?" Piplup asked.

"Where have you heard it before?" Torchic inquired.

"Will you let her talk?" Froakie snapped. Charmander sensed something different in his voice, almost protective, but let it slip from his mind after a moment.

Chikorita sighed and stared at the ground as she spoke. "When I was attacked in battle," she said, "and got these wounds, I passed out. I thought I was going to die. I think… I think a part of me _wanted_ to, just because I knew I didn't have any family left. But I was rescued by two Pokémon. Krookodile and Tyrunt, they called themselves. They said they were… oh, it sounds so stupid. They said they were Wardens, meant to protect the world from Reapers or something. I thought they were crazy, so I left in the middle of the night. That's how I ended up here."

"If you were stationary with them two nights ago, then maybe we can still find them," Piplup suggested. "See whether or not they're full of shit."

Chikorita shook her head. "No, I wouldn't be able to get back to the cave we stayed in even if I tried. And besides, they were on their way back."

"Back to where?" Froakie asked.

"I have no idea," she said. "I thought they were lying. But now, with Garchomp saying he's a Reaper, and Feraligatr… what is the world coming to?"

"I don't know," Piplup said. "I just don't know."

There was silence for a while, save for the hustle and bustle of those that had passed by as they talked. Finally, Piplup sighed. "Well," he said. "We might as well go to that pastry shop. Just keep your eyes open tonight. There's no telling what's going to happen."

"Do you really think something might happen?" Froakie asked.

"Of course not," Piplup said, and Charmander could tell by his tone that he truly did mean it. "If Feraligatr's working with Garchomp, then he's a lone wolf. He'll get found out eventually; that hologram caller's going to look pretty suspicious once the rest of the Council starts to ask what he's using it for, assuming it's functional. Besides, everyone in the city's gonna be there. What the hell do you expect him to do, execute these guys in front of the entire city?"

Chikorita whimpered at the prospect of that. Piplup looked over at her. "Oh," he said. "I'm… I'm sorry, that was insensitive. I shouldn't… crap, let's just get something to eat."

"Yeah," Charmander agreed. But deep in his mind, he could feel an itch. Something was going to happen tonight. He didn't know what it was going to be, he didn't know when it was going to happen, but it was going to happen. Something.

Something.


	33. Blaziken I

**Blaziken**

Blaziken's worried thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. He turned his head as far as he could, looking at the door. A voice behind it spoke in to him. "Blaziken, Charizard! We're here!"

"Come on in!" Blaziken urged, hoping the nervousness he felt wasn't going to be given away by his voice. But would they really care? No. They would understand, Typhlosion especially. He'd almost lost his son to the battle, so if anyone in Furnace understood what Blaziken and Charizard were going through best, it was going to be Typhlosion.

The Fire Nation's Political Strategist entered, sauntering over to Blaziken's bed. Behind him was Moltres, who Blaziken was surprised could even fit into the hospital given his towering size over them all. And, really, he couldn't; he was ducking so as not to scrape his head against the ceiling. In a better time, Blaziken would have made a joke about Moltres' height. But right now, there was no time for joking around. Right now, business was brewing.

"I'm glad to see you two are okay," Typhlosion said. Behind him, Moltres nodded his agreement. Typhlosion looked around the room, then saw a chair in the corner. He picked it up and sat down in it as he spoke. "I know the last couple of days haven't been easy for you two," he said, "and we've done all we can to make sure you'll both fully recover. You'll obviously be okay physically, but mentally…"

He trailed off, looking a bit downcast. His face still had a hard seriousness to it, though, one that Blaziken had always admired. Typhlosion was always able to keep a level head in the face of any adversity. When the battle had occurred in Furnace and he was searching for his son, he told Blaziken after the battle had ended, he had known for a fact Quilava was going to be okay. Blaziken admired that surety, and was astonished to discover Typhlosion had been right. He wished he could have that kind of confidence about his own daughter. But every second, the feeling that something had happened to her, that she and Charmander were in danger, continued to gnaw at his belly.

Typhlosion looked up, the seriousness suddenly engulfing his face. "Now then," he said, "let's get down to business. We need to find your daughter as well as your son, Charizard. Moltres and I have been discussing possible locations that they could be at, and we believe there's one place we should look."

"Where?" Blaziken asked, already feeling a sense of dread in what Typhlosion was going to tell him. _Please don't say what I think you're going to say,_ he thought.

But his pleas were not met positively. "We believe they may have been captured by the Water Nation," he said. Then, quickly; "Now we don't know for sure, but given the battle and everything that happened, we believe this is the case. We still haven't found their bodies yet, so we have to hope for the best. And right now, their being at Water Nation is the best chance we have at something tangible."

"Why not Ground Nation?" Blaziken argued. "I mean, they were in the city. They were the ones who turned against their allies, who broke through our walls. Why wouldn't it be them?"

"It's reasonable to believe so," Moltres interjected. "But it doesn't seem all that likely. If they did have your children, they may have used them as bargaining chips to get Furnace. It seems unlikely that they would have them, considering they didn't use them to their advantage."

"Unless they have them now," Charizard spoke up. He leaned forward in bed, looking at his companions with downcast eyes, glistening with tears. His frown was prominent, and Blaziken felt his grief cut deeper into him when he saw how much his friend was suffering. But the suffering did not deter him, and he continued to speak. "What if Charmander and Torchic managed to avoid being captured until after the Ground Nation assaulted Furnace? Or what if they weren't captured at all? What if they're wandering out in that desert, starving at thirsty, trying to stave off their deaths as much as they can? What then? What makes you so sure Water Nation has them?"

Typhlosion looked at Moltres, and for the first time in his life, Blaziken noticed a nervous grimace on Typhlosion's face. Someone, perhaps just a random soldier, perhaps a Great Warrior, had seen something, and had reported it to the currently functioning members of the Council. Something awful, Blaziken thought, because otherwise why wouldn't they want to tell them, the ailing parents of these missing children, what was reported? _Torchic, please be safe,_ he said. _I can't lose you. I don't want you dragged down into the craziness of this world, not like your mother._ Never _like your mother._

"What is it?" Charizard asked. He'd clearly noticed too, and he wasn't going to wait for the answer to slowly make its way out. "Tell us! Come on, Typhlosion, any information one member of the Council has must be shared with the other members. And we're friends. Come on."

Typhlosion sighed. He looked at them both. "You aren't going to like what I tell you," he said.

"We can take it," Blaziken assured him. But in the back of his mind, he wondered; what was he about to know?

Typhlosion sighed. "There were a few reports from some soldiers," he said, "that Charmander and Torchic were spotted with two Water Nation trainees. According to what some could make out during the sandstorm, the Water Nation trainees went off to kill a Gabite, leaving Charmander and Torchic in the storm and returning to them after about a minute. But the strangest part was the fact that Charmander and Torchic never even _attempted_ to leave the trainees."

"Impossible!" Charizard scoffed. "My son wouldn't be willing to put his life in the hands of trainees from other Nations! Hell, _anyone_ , from other Nations!"

"I'm just relaying what others have told me," Typhlosion replied defensively. "I don't have any sort of major validity of these statements, save for the fact that Arcanine saw what I'm about to tell you next?"

"Go on," Charizard said. Blaziken saw that his eyes were slits, but he didn't want to say anything about it. Charizard was clearly skeptical of all of this, but Blaziken wasn't too sure. Perhaps they had stayed because the Water Nation trainees had threatened them in some way. Maybe, if one of them was the son of a Senator, they had used the power their parent held to manipulate them. Perhaps they were only staying with them to protect the Fire Nation.

"According to Arcanine," Typhlosion said, "Charmander and Torchic, along with the Water Nation trainees, were carrying a figure into a Water Nation transport vehicle. And, according to a few others who say they saw this happen, it was Senator Empoleon."

"Yes!" Blaziken shot up straight in bed, making everyone else in the room jump. He remembered now, seeing the two of them. Not the children, but Garchomp and Empoleon. He could still see Garchomp beating the Water Nation Senator, wounding his severely. He could still remember the thoughts he had had when he saw the beaten, bloodied body of Empoleon laying on the desert just before the sandstorm swept it from his sight; _it looks like Feraligatr is head of their Council now._

But now, it all became clear. "They were helping him because the Water Nation trainees _wanted_ them to," Blaziken realized.

Typhlosion nodded. "That's what we're thinking, yes. We also think that, since Empoleon was there, one of the trainees that was with your children was his son, Piplup."

"And the other one?" Charizard asked. "Could that have been the older son, Prinplup?"

Moltres shook his head. "No," he said. "He's dead."

Typhlosion looked at Moltres, glaring. "What?"

Blaziken realized the implications of Moltres' reveal. This was a piece of information that, though not big, wasn't exactly small either. And Moltres had kept it from the Council, kept it from his friends. If Moltres was willing to not talk about something like this, then what did it imply for who he was?

Moltres sighed, realizing he had made a mistake. "Look, it was something I discovered on my own through… _unconventional_ methods."

"What do you mean by 'unconventional'?" Typhlosion asked.

Moltres sighed again. "During the battle, I may have snuck over to a Water Nation soldier and… and tortured him for any information about the Water Nation I could."

"What!" Charizard shouted.

"It wasn't anything personal!" Moltres yelled. "I buried his body and that was that! It was a grunt, a random grunt, nothing more, nothing less!"

"If they have my son, then you've put him in more danger than you realize!" Charizard shouted.

"If they have your son, then he's already in danger! Did you see the bodies on that desert? Did you see how many of them we killed? Killing one more isn't going to stop them from doing anything!"

"But torturing someone for information, then killing them… Arceus, Moltres, what the hell have you become?"

Moltres looked at Charizard hardly. Then he turned his head away. "I don't know," he said. "But what I do know is that I will _always_ have this Nation in mind. This is my home, and I would give anything for it. I would break any rules set to make sure it's safe. Even that rule. Because what I care about isn't who has to die; it's who I can save."

Blaziken closed his eyes, remembering the speech Moltres had given prior to the battle in the desert. About how he blamed himself for the deaths of Tepig's parents, and how that guilt had driven him into hiding for months. He understood. He didn't agree, but he understood.

Typhlosion sighed. "Fine. We'll deal with that later. Right now, we have only one option in regards to this, and Moltres has already agreed to this, even though there's a bit of doubt in my mind right now."

"I would never risk another battle as large as that last one," Moltres insisted. "I only did what I felt was necessary for the Council."

"I do not doubt you won't do something that will put the Nation at risk," Typhlosion agreed. "But I have a feeling that, if the opportunity presents itself, you'll risk your neck for information."

"Why? What's going on?" Blaziken asked, feeling suspicion and dread, knowing he shouldn't, but still feeling it anyway.

"We're sending Moltres to Aquarius as a momentary ambassador to the Water Nation to see if your sons are alive," Typhlosion said.

"No, we're not," Charizard stated firmly. He looked at Moltres sharply. "I refuse to have you do something that puts our children at risk. Just going there is risky enough, but if you somehow manage to do something that puts the Nation in serious danger, you will most certainly not be alive to see everything come crashing down."

"I won't do anything of the sort," Moltres replied.

Charizard turned on Typhlosion, glaring at him. "Who the hell made you head of Council? Furthermore, why don't Blaziken and I get a say in this?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Typhlosion reasoned. "We have no choice but to send someone, and right now, Moltres is the one who can get to Aquarius the fastest."

"I can go," Charizard said, sitting up. "I want to go anyway. I need to find my son."

"No, you don't," Typhlosion said. He stood, coming over to Charizard's bed and leaning him back into it. "You need to heal and to rest, as does Blaziken. I don't want either of you to leave this hospital room for any reason. Moltres and I have it all under control."

"Bullshit," Charizard murmured, though he complied and laid back down on the bed.

Typhlosion then turned to Blaziken. "Blaziken," he said, "are you okay with this?"

Blaziken sighed. He may as well let his true thoughts be known now before they were drowned out in the future. "I would rather search for them myself," he said. "But I think Moltres is the best option right now."

"Thank you," Typhlosion nodded. He sighed. "I'm sorry, about all of this," he said. "I understand how hard it is. We have to leave now. Buisness to attend to regarding the attack. We need to make sure the city is reinforced, so another attack like that doesn't happen soon. We'll be back later on."

"When will you be leaving to find them?" Charizard asked.

"Early tomorrow morning, a few hours before the sun rises," Moltres replied. "Roughly twelve hours or so from now. I would leave earlier, but I don't think it's wise. Not when everyone else here needs us."

Without another word, Typhlosion left the hospital room, with Moltres following behind him.

Charizard sighed. He looked over at Blaziken. "So, what's the plan?" he asked.

"The plan right now is to let Moltres handle it," Blaziken said. "I'm a bit wary as well, considering who know who may be involved in this. If all goes well and they have our children, then we won't need to do anything but wait."

"And if something else happens?"

Blaziken looked over at Charizard, and said seriously, "Then time's up. Then we have to find them ourselves."


	34. Chikorita VII

**Chikorita**

Night had fallen, and Chikorita was cold.

It wasn't that the weather outside was making her feel this way. It was a horrendous chill that engulfed her, that had been embracing her all day, ever since the conversation she'd had with the others that morning. Ever since she'd realized that nothing was right, that nothing was going to be okay, that perhaps this was the end of the line for all of them. The negative darkness had been looming over her all day, and now, with the event only a few minutes away, it had engulfed her.

She was lying down, curled up at the end of Froakie's bed, thinking about the uneventful day that had passed. They had all gotten pastries from a small shop close to both Piplup and Froakie's houses, but they had eaten them in silence. The whole time, citizens of Aquarius would pass them, giving her and the Fire Nation trainees stern, hard, unwelcoming looks. _You don't belong here,_ their faces said. It made her feels as though perhaps she didn't belong anywhere.

And now here she was. There hadn't been anything interesting about the day aside from their talk before getting pastries. She had cooped herself up in Froakie's room, trying to reason through everything in her mind. Feraligatr. Garchomp. Reapers. Wardens. The hologram caller. The party. It spun around her head like a whirlwind, threatening to engulf her in its vibrant, vile promises. Just what the hell was going to happen? And what could they do about it?

She felt useless, sitting there. She knew she couldn't do anything but wait until Greninja called her down, called her and told her that the party was going to begin and they had to leave, and that her fate had been sealed. She couldn't shake the feeling, the feeling that something horrendous was going to happen. Perhaps it was just a feeling. Or perhaps not.

A light knock on the door broke her negative thoughts apart. She looked to the half open door and saw a small head peak out from behind it. She sighed and looked away. Froakie entered; she could hear his door creak as he widened it some more, and could hear his light footsteps approaching the bed. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," she responded, looking down at the floor, feeling fearful that if she met his eyes, her mistrust of the night would pass on to him. And she didn't want that. If he wasn't paranoid or scared already, she didn't want him to be now.

"Listen," he said. "I know tonight's going to be… something. But I highly doubt something's going to happen. Piplup's right. There's no way Feraligatr would attack or kill us in front of the entirety of the Water Nation. Even if he is one of those Reaper guys, it just wouldn't make any sense. We're going to be fine, Chikorita."

"You don't know that," she whispered, feeling rage building up inside of her at Froakie's blind surety that everything was going to turn out fine.

"What?" he asked. It added fuel to the fire of her anger.

" _You don't know that!_ " she shouted. "You don't! Anything could happen, at any time, and you'll just never be ready for it! Do you think I thought something was going to go wrong when my father and sister were killed? No! Of course not! I thought the three of us were going to run into that battle, kill who we could, protect our home, and make it back safely! But now… now I don't even know if I have a home to go back to."

"Chikorita, you can't-"

"I _can_ and I _will_!" she roared. It was like an inferno in her chest, this rage Froakie had brought out of her. She felt tears sliding down her cheeks. It was all coming back like it had happened just a few minutes ago; the pain of seeing her sister torn apart, the horror and helplessness she felt when she saw her father's beaten, bloodied corpse being dragged off the battlefield. The terrible coldness she felt as the Rock Nation continued to push forward into her home, a home she had once thought invincible but now could be nothing but a pile of rubble for all she knew. And she couldn't help it, because all she could see was red, and all she felt was the hot iron of anger.

"You think just because we're going to be presented for thousands of people doesn't mean he won't take advantage of that? Maybe he'll push you and Piplup off the stage first, and have just enough time to gut me and Charmander and Torchic in frontof everyone! Make a spectacle of the execution of some war prisoners or something like that! And the crowd, well, they don't like us as it stands! Maybe they'll cheer while we bleed out! Wouldn't that be something, huh? To have the whole of a world recognize you just for bleeding out, for being… for just…"

Froakie was looking at her with the saddest eyes she'd ever seen. They were big, round, and shining with tears. He was shaking, his hands folded against his knee, his tounge licking his dried lips every few seconds. She could see small droplets of sweat across his brow and on his face. "Please stop," he whispered. "Please be done."

She stopped. She couldn't help the tears running down her face, though. She grieved for everything. For her father, who had been dragged away, and her helpless to save him, if he could be saved. For her sister, who had died on that battlefield without any way of coming back. For Senator Venusaur, who had saved her life, and had died in the process. For Krookodile and Tyrunt, whose lives were so much different from hers, and something she never expected to comprehend. Most of all, though, she grieved for herself. She had changed, she realized. She had become more cold, less timid (not much less, but surely there was some change in that). The old her, the innocent her (as innocent as she could get in a world like this) was gone. And she grieved for that poor little girl that had died bleeding on the outskirts of Ivy City.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry." She buried her head in Forakie's shoulder. He held her close, wrapping his thin arms around her. She felt so warm in his embrace, felt so protected, felt like nothing could ever happen to her so long as he was there. _Maybe this is an okay way to feel_ , she thought. _Maybe with the doom impending on us, it's alright._

She pulled away from his embrace only slightly, then rejoined with him, her lips pressed against his. He welcomed her, held her, kissed her. She felt her heart beating fast, faster than it ever had. Was this what love felt like? It was something. It wasn't a fleeting feeling of desperation, it wasn't something born from no substance. It was something, and it was wonderful.

He pulled back, looking almost unsure. But it only lasted a moment; in the next he was kissing her again, his lips embracing hers, his body embracing hers. She felt something touch her skin, just above her eyes, and she realized there were tears flowing down her face that were not her own. Their embrace was one of both love and fear.

He released her, and she longed for him to come back to her. "We have to go," he said through heavy tears.

"No," she said firmly. "No, please, no."

"We have to!" he said. "We need to do this. It's going to be okay."

"You don't really believe that, do you?"

Froakie looked away from her. That was all the answer she needed.

She jumped when there was a loud thumping on the door. "Froakie! Chikorita!" Greninja shouted from the other side. "You two ready yet? You have about five minutes before you need to get there! Feraligatr's first order of business is presenting you!"

Chikorita sighed helplessly. Here it was. Her destiny.

"We'll be ready in a minute!" Froakie called. It seemed good enough for Greninja, who Chikorita could hear walk away.

Froakie turned back to her. He jumped on to the bed, shocking her with one final kiss. "I don't know what this is," he said. "This feeling I have. I think it's too early to be called 'love,' but too late to be called a crush. I don't know. But Chikorita… we can do this."

She nodded. But deep down, she (and he) knew that this night would not be so easy to get through. Chikorita had the horrible feeling that they would be lucky to make it through this night alive.


	35. Charmander XI

**Charmander**

Charmander was jittering and he couldn't help himself.

He walked with both of his companions by his side, Piplup to his left, Torchic to his right. Ahead of them a few paces was Simipour, carrying Senator Empoleon. "Sir, are you sure you want to be doing this?" she asked. "I know Feraligatr means to commemorate you for your bravery, but surely you don't need to show up for something like this?"

"No need to worry," Empoleon replied back. "I may be injured, but the least I can do is receive a damn medal. Besides, Feraligatr has no idea I'm coming. Perhaps he'll be happy to see me."

"Or he'll scold you for being out in your condition," Simipour joked.

Empoleon laughed. "Yes," he said. "That's always a possibility!"

Charmander envied the two of them. At least they had no suspicions about the night. At least they thought everything was going to turn out fine. But the three behind them (well, save for Piplup; he had been very vocal about how he thought the night was going to go off without any sort of horrid occurrence, though he still had his suspicions about Feraligatr) knew something wasn't right. So much that Empoleon, Simipour, hell, the whole of the Water Nation had passed over, when the truth was right under their noses.

It had to be the truth, didn't it? It was terrible to think about, and Charmander didn't want to think about it, but it was all he could do. Feraligatr was going to kill them. He'd almost come to terms with his inevitable death many times during the day. It hadn't been pretty, and it gave him no solace that he was about to die in front of thousands without any answers to any of the questions he had. But maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't hurt.

 _You're thinking about this like you're walking right to the executioner,_ he thought. But perhaps he was. There was the other possibility, though; that he was just being overly paranoid. That perhaps all of these suspicious things had nothing to do with him or Torchic or anyone else, and it was best if he just didn't stick his nose where it didn't belong. Still, with everything that happened, with all the times he and Torchic had questioned Feraligatr's validity… wouldn't he want to silence those who had come to close to knowing the truth, whatever that truth may be?

"We're here!" Empoleon's declaration made Charmander jump. His companions looked at him, concerned, on both sides. Piplup looked away first. Torchic, though, stared at him, into his eyes, for a few long seconds. They both knew it; something wasn't right with the night. Something was about to happen, and they were going to be at the center of it.

Charmander turned, and was shocked to see what was in front of him. He was even more surprised by the fact that he had managed to walk all this way without even noticing it was in front of him. The huge dome stretched high into the sky. It was gigantic, at least a quarter of a mile in diameter. A huge crowd stood before it, all of them mulling around, all of them awaiting… something. What? Perhaps it was Feraligatr's arrival. But the eyes… eyes began to look at him, glare at him, some even watch him expectantly. No, it wasn't Feraligatr they were waiting for; it was them.

A figure detached themselves from the crowd and began to run up to them. It was blue, with a spiked head. It had webbed hands and feet, a long tail, a large beak, red eyes, a blue body, and a red gem in the center of its forehead. It spoke as it approached, and from its voice, Charmander was able to gather that it was a "she". "Empoleon," she said. "What the hell are you doing out here? You _do_ realize how horribly you've been injured, right?"

"Yes, yes, I know," he said, waving off her concerns as though they were meaningless drivel. He turned towards the trainees then, stretching out his flipper as he did so to acknowledge the figure that stood before them. "This is Lady Golduck," he said, "one of the best Warriors we have. She'll be taking you in back of the dining hall so you're all prepared for when Feraligatr presents you to the city." Then he turned back towards Golduck, stern, almost commanding. He would have looked intimidating, Charmander thought, if it wasn't for his bandaged wounds and inability to walk more than a hundred or so feet on his own. "Where are Chikorita and Froakie?"

"Don't know," Golduck responded, looking out into the crowd. "I'd assumed they and Greninja would have been here by now."

"Well, they'd better arrive soon; I don't want Simipour to be holding me up like this forever."

"It's no trouble at all, sir," she responded, smiling her always so sweet smile at him.

"Nonsense, it's not," he scoffed back. "You're little arms wouldn't be able to hold me up for another ten minutes, I'd say!"

"You really doubt me that much sir?" she asked, a look on her face telling Empoleon that he should know better than to question her.

"Would you two mind stopping with the chatter?" a voice behind them all cut in. Turning, Charmander saw Greninja, standing upright, his arms folded, looking at the group before him with a slight smile on his face. Below him stood Froakie and Chikorita, close together. _Oddly_ close together, Charmander noticed. Almost touching. _The stress of the night,_ he thought. _It's clear we're all feeling it right now._

"Ah, good," Golduck said, looking at the new group that had just approached them approvingly. "Glad you've finally managed to show up. I'll take all of you trainees into the back. Feraligatr's already waiting."

"Do as she says, now," Greninja agreed, nodding at Golduck. Chikorita and Forakie looked at one another, unsureness in each of their faces. They turned towards Charmander, Torchic, and Piplup, almost as though they were looking for some kind of sign of approval. Greninja, growing impatient, said, "Come on, now! You can't just stand around out here all day. People are counting on you!"

"Yeah," Piplup spoke up. "Come on guys, let's go."

He turned towards his father, then. "I'll see you afterwards," he said.

"I'll see you _all_ afterwards," Empoleon replied, letting his gaze wash over the entirety of the group. "It's going to be a long night, though, so I hope you're all ready for this."

"We are," Charmander affirmed, nodding, not feeling that way at all. He knew he needed to act sure of himself, though, otherwise someone would suspect something was wrong. But it didn't matter how he acted, for there was still someone watching him that was suspicious. Torchic stood by his side, looking at him wonderingly. _What's she thinking?_ he thought. Something important, no doubt, but could it wait until after the introduction from Feraligatr? He didn't know.

"Right, then!" Golduck shouted. "Let's go!"

She set off at a quick pace, walking briskly around the crowd that was trying to get into the dining hall. Piplup followed suit, with Froakie and Chikorita trailing behind him. Charmander took up the back with Torchic, walking fast enough to keep up with the rest of the group but slow enough so the two of them could have some privacy to talk about whatever Torchic was suspicious of at the moment. When she said nothing for a solid minute, Charmander knew he would have to speak up. "What's the matter?" he asked. Then, quickly added, "You seemed to be staring at me weirdly just a minute or so ago."

"Of course I was! This is crazy!" she said. "Why the hell can't we just tell someone what we suspect?"

"You know what will happen," he replied. "If we all corroborate the story, then Piplup and Froakie look like traitors and may even get their parents in trouble. For all we know, it could get them killed, depending on how bad this really is. If you and I do it, and we turn out to be right, then there's the chance we get killed, too. But it wouldn't be an execution. They might…"

"What?" Torchic asked. "What will they do?"

"They might try to make it look like an accident. Play it off like we were in the wrong place at the wrong time or something like that."

"Oh come on, Charmander! That's crazy talk!"

"I know," he said. "I know it is, but what if we are right? What would happen to us if we really decided to question the motives of members of a Nation we're not even a part of?"

"Well… shit," Torchic mumbled. "I guess you're right. But it feels so wrong not telling anyone."

"I know; I don't like it either. But it's the only thing keeping us remotely safe. Assuming, of course, that nothing happens tonight."

Torchic looked away from him, and he from her. It wasn't right, and he knew it deep within his mind that it wasn't. They should have been able to tell someone, to inform someone of their suspicions of Feraligatr and the Reapers. But what was there to tell? Really, reflecting, what was there to tell? Someone with a hologram caller they made themselves who could be in contact with someone from the Ground Nation, but only proof of the hologram caller is there. Someone who suspiciously knows specific details of the Fire Nation's attack from Furnace yet seems to not have any tangible way of getting that information; perhaps he'd just made it up for some reason. He was a member of the Council, prestigious in all rights. What the hell was there to tell?

"We're here," Golduck informed them. Charmander had been so lost in thought he hadn't realized they had been walking for the better part of twenty minutes. Everyone else looked just as grave as he felt. Even Piplup, who had voiced his belief that nothing was going to happen and that there was nothing they should be concerned about, what shaking slightly as Golduck reached for the handle of the door that would open it to their fate. Golduck looked back at them and smiled. "Are you ready?" she asked.

 _She's a part of this!_ Charmander's mind screamed in paranoia. _She knows what you're thinking! She knows you know! She's a part of this!_

Instead of voicing these horrified realizations (if realizations they were), he merely nodded. "Yes," he replied calmly. "I think we are."

Golduck's smile grew. "Good," she said as she swung open the door. The doorway led into darkness. "Come on!" she urged, going in. "Feraligatr may have a large jaw and large claws, but the old bastard doesn't bite."

"You sure about that?" Torchic asked, making Charmander wish he had the ability to tape her mouth shut.

Golduck's eyes, which were glowing red in the darkness, turned back to look at them quizzically. "Yes," she said. "Yes, I'm sure. I understand if you're nervous, I do get it. But you need to know that Feraligatr has always had the best interests of the Nation in mind. He's the one who pitched the idea to the rest of the Council that Garchomp had to be eliminated through a fake alliance. It didn't turn out as any of us had planned, that's for sure, but he still had the best interests of the Nation in mind when it happened. He truly is one of the best we have, and he just wants to see that there's no more tension in Aquarius, especially after a battle as brutal as that last one."

"He was the one who came up with the Garchomp plan?" Charmander asked, while also hearing Piplup audibly whisper, "Oh shit, I forgot about that."

A deeper, more familiar voice than Golduck's answered Charmander's question. "Yes, it was me."

The voice came from the shadows, and it chilled Charmander to the bone. He could almost feel the others shiver around him as the lights turned on. Feraligatr stood there, Golduck beside him. She was smiling, as was he. Though while her smile was excited, ready to get on with the event they had scheduled, Feraligatr's held an air of glee that was much less convincing. No, wait, that wasn't it. It was convincing, yes, but odd. The kind of smile worn by someone who has won a bloody fight, and knows there is no coming back for their opponent. And he knew, just looking at the contrast of the smiles they wore on their faces, that Golduck wasn't a part of this, and had no idea any of this existed. She was merely doing her job; this was an act for Feraligatr alone.

 _And if he's working alone, maybe as an agent for these Reapers, it means he's not going to try anything drastic,_ Charmander thought. Yes, that was true. But it didn't mean he had to put his guard down. That could have been exactly what Feraligatr wanted.

"Well, there's no time to waste," Feraligatr said. "It's time we introduce you to the world, don't you think?"

It took Charmander a moment, but he realized that he couldn't see the rest of the dining hall. It was covered by a thick blue curtain that stretched twenty feet on both sides of the group. It took Charmander a moment, but he realized he and his companions were standing on a stage.

Feraligatr, seeing the dumbfounded look on Charmander's face, laughed. "Oh, man," he said. "You look surprised! It's true, we don't _actually_ have a stage here. This is more of a makeshift thing. We've had a few dozen volunteers since this morning building it so we can present you three in style. Piplup, Froakie, we're going to need you two as well. You're going to have to vouch for these three; it's the best chance we have of ending any hostilities in the city. If you three are going to be staying with us for a little while longer, it's best if we have as little conflict as possible during that time. Seeing the sons of influential people within the Nation will make others more likely to respect the fact that you three are here."

Then, Feraligatr's face changed. He looked at the group quizzically. "What's the matter?" he asked. "You look like I'm about to throw you to the hounds! The tension in the room's so thick you couldn't cut it with a knife even if you tried."

There was silence. Was he mocking them? Perhaps. Charmander wouldn't have been surprised. But what kind was it? Was he just joking around, trying to make light of things before they had to go out onto the stage and present themselves to the Water Nation? Or was he mocking their realization, making nothing out of what they had discovered? Charmander hesitatingly guessed it was the former. He _hoped_ it was the former.

Feraligatr laughed. "Oh, come now!" he said. "We've got to get on the stage. It's imperative that you three seem to be at your best. At the very least, can you _pretend_ not to be nervous about facing the crowd?"

"I'm not nervous about the crowd," Torchic replied. "It's just that… well, we're afraid of what they'll do if they don't accept us. If there's a riot of some kind."

Feraligatr smiled at her. "Is that it?" he asked. "Well, we're not stupid. We're prepared for something like that. Now, I'm sorry to thrust you into this, but you were a little late. Golduck, go onstage. It's time."

Golduck nodded. She parted the curtains and disappeared. For a brief instant, Charmander could see the crowd, could see just how many hundreds of heads were in that one space he'd seen. Perhaps it was even a thousand. This soothed him; the more people there were, the less likely it was that Feraligatr wouldn't do anything to them.

 _But are you forgetting none of these people save for a few are on your side?_ he asked himself.

No, he hadn't forgotten about that. But what he had seen were citizens, some of whom may have only seen small snips of war in their time alive. They wouldn't be so keen on seeing children get executed onstage for an audience of thousands. At least, Charmander thought as much. He doubted they would be so savage.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Golduck shouted into a microphone, "It's time we introduced you to the trainees that saved one of our very own! Charmander and Torchic of the Fire Nation, and Chikorita of the Grass Nation!"

The curtain was pulled back, and Charmander was met with utter silence. The whole crowd was watching them. Some glared, but Charmander noticed that most of the looks up at the stage were more curious than anything else. He felt beads of sweat start to form on his forehead. This wasn't what he'd expected at all. He'd expected booing and glaring accompanied by angered shouts from the crowd. But no; instead it was just a bunch of regular-looking Pokémon wondering what was going on. Well, mostly regular looking. There was also Feraligatr's insurance that no one in the crowd would misbehave; at least four dozen Blastoise, all of them deck out in armor, all of them carrying swords at their waists. Charmander felt relief seeing them there. It was all he could do not to call out a thank you to them.

Silence still. What was going on? What was being expected of them? Charmander turned to see Feraligatr watching them, his eyes telling him that he had to go on, that it was his job to explain himself, not Feraligatr's. Charmander turned back to the crowd, to the eyes that were on him. He cleared his throat, and began.

"Hello," he said into the microphone (which had been lowered by Golduck so he could speak), "I am Charmander, the son of Senator Charizard of the Fire Nation. I'm… I'm honestly not too sure what to say, so I guess I'll start at the beginning. During the battle in the desert a few days ago, my friend and I, Torchic, came across Piplup and Froakie. The two of them were attempting to save the life of Piplup's father, Empoleon. Torchic and I… we couldn't just let him die. Not when Piplup looked so broken. Not when the Ground Nation had turned against you.

"I'm sure there are some of you out there that aren't trustworthy of Torchic and I. And you have every right to be. It's understandable. If I were in your situation, I probably wouldn't trust me either. But, that being said, the only thing either of us want in return for our services to your Nation is to go back to ours, unharmed. That's it. We don't care about battle plans, or spy infiltration or any of that crap. We just want to know that Furnace is safe, and that we can go home."

"After we found out about the Ground Nation attacking Furnace," Torchic chimed in, "your wonderful Senator Feraligatr informed us of the details of a Ground Nation attack on Furnace. He believes that, soon, we will be able to go home, and no one in this room wants us to go home more than we do. We don't want to be a burden to this Nation, and especially not to the good people of Aquarius."

"They saved my father's life," Piplup interrupted. "They are trustworthy. Not with our secrets, as secrets are ours. But they will not try to instigate anything with our Nation. They truly, sincerely just want to go home. They are good people that _deserve_ to go home without conflict. And soon, they will. But for now, we must extend our gratitude towards them, and give them our hands in unity. For now."

The crowd took this in, though no one spoke. Charmander was terrified; were they going to tear them apart right now? _Perhaps this was Feraligatr's plan,_ he thought. _Get the crowd angry at us, turn them against us, get us killed in the process. A happy little accident._

Then, one voice broke the silence. Charmander couldn't tell who it came from, but it was unfamiliar. "Well that's all well and good with you two," the voice said, "but what about that one from the Grass Nation?"

Murmurs of agreement wavered through the crowd. Charmander looked over at Chikorita, who was shaking horrendously. He didn't know if she was going to be able to muster up the strength to speak. He was unsure of what this would do if she didn't speak. Perhaps they would get even less favor with the Water Nation. Maybe the stage _would_ be charged by someone crazy enough to kill kids. Maybe Feraligatr's guards wouldn't be enough to stop them.

But all of those wild, negative thoughts were crushed when Chikorita spoke. "In all honesty, my story isn't anything to gawk at. I'm the daughter of Senator Meganium of the Grass Nation. He… he and my sister were killed in battle, and I almost joined them both. But I was saved by… by Senator Venusaur. But I was separated from the city, and wandered out, bleeding. I thought I was going to bleed to death. Then, when I woke up… when I woke up, and I know how this is going to sound, but when I woke up I was in a cave, and I was bandaged up. I know it sounds crazy, but that's the truth of the matter.

"I wandered around for a while, I don't know how long. Then… then I came here. And I was welcomed in, and I was given shelter. And… and I don't know how I could ever repay any of you. And me… I just want to go home. To make sure that my Nation knows not everyone in my father's family was lost that day."

The crowd mumbled for a bit. Then, someone began to clap. Then someone else. And someone else. And someone else. Charmander was amazed; soon the entire room was clapping for them, cheering, welcoming them, and shouting for their attention. It was so surreal, so odd… but Charmander welcomed it. They saw them for who they were; those that had persevered in the face of adversity, and had stood tall when everything looked bleak. And it was a wonderful feeling.

Feraligatr stepped forward then and brought the mic up, silencing the crowd. "I hope," he said, "that you're all okay with this. They won't be here too long. They're just kids, and they deserve better than to be sent out to the wild, or to be sent back to homes that may not even be safe for them anymore. We are not a civilized Nation if we do not allow them to stay here; we would be a Nation of savages. And we are not. No, we are not."

The crowd cheered. Charmander looked around; everything felt so unreal, yet so right at the same time. They were there, and that was that. There was no stopping what was already done, and now everyone understood that their presence was not meant to be nor would be a threat to their security. They could be safe, and they wouldn't need to worry about the prying eyes or ears of a Fire or Grass Nation trainee anymore.

Charmander felt a slight pinch on his arm. "Ow," he mumbled, then saw it was Froakie, motioning for him to come with him. Charmander looked past him, and saw with a start that everyone else was already following Golduck off the stage, and had been while he had been looking around at the crowd in awe like a complete dunce. Smiling and his face red with embarrassment, Charmander quickly followed Froakie and the rest of his companions off the stage. Feraligatr was the only one remaining there. _We've made it,_ he told himself. _Nothing happened. We were wrong. We've made it._

As they walked down the stairs, three others began to climb them. Charmander recognized all of them; first was Senator Empoleon, who was being helped up by Simipour. He looked rather embarrassed to need the help, but he accepted it nonetheless. Behind him was Slowking, who was stern and callous-looking. When glancing at him, Charmander realized there were scratches all over his body. Why hadn't he noticed them when they had been going to Froakie's that morning? _My mind was on something else, that's why_ , he thought. Last was Greninja, who was looking proud and gallant. At first, Charmander was confused; Greninja hadn't fought in the battle. Then he realized why he would be getting commemorated by Feraligatr. _He must have been leading the defenses of Aquarius._

They walked up the stage, and stood in a row, all of them facing the crowd. The hollers of the crowd became more of a ruckus, and they all cheered. Golduck brought the trainees through the crowd, near a wall. Leaning against that wall were both Kabutops and a Balstoise in armor. "You've all done well," he said, beaming a smile at the six of them. "I'm sure the Water Nation's acceptance of you will make the streets safe of any jeers or crimes any wish to commit upon you."

"You don't need to act so formal," Golduck teased.

Kabutops shrugged. "It's just who I am."

Golduck laughed lightly, then turned her attention back to the stage. Kabutops, however, did not. For a few moments more, Charmander watched as he stared at her. He only stopped when his eyes locked with Charmander, and the warrior turned away, blushing. Charmander turned his attention to the stage now as well, smiling. Formal as he was being, Kabutops wasn't exactly great at hiding his true feelings from being in plain sight.

"My fellow Water Nation citizens!" Feraligatr's booming voice in the mic silenced anyone who had been talking within the crowd. When the crowd was silent, Feraligatr smiled a winning smirk, then continued. "Today is not only about accepting those we may have trouble accepting, but also about commemorating those who deserve to be recognized for their great bravery in battle two days ago.

"The first commemoration I'd like the make will be the shortest, as I can see sweat running down Simipour's face and I don't want her to have to hold up our hero longer than she has to." At this, Feraligatr stooped down, and Simipour dropped Empoleon's side into Feraligatr's arm gratefully. He whispered to her, and she nodded, getting off the stage. Feraligatr half-dragged half-walked Empoleon to the front of the stage.

"First, we'd like to thank Empoleon," he said. "Empoleon engaged in conflict with Garchomp immediately after the Ground Nation turned against us. Empoleon wasted no time in trying to take out their best warrior, and was, sadly, mortally wounded in the process. But it shows that he was willing to die for this Nation, and that takes a bravery I don't think all of us are capable of. So thank you, Empoleon, for your service to us!"

The crowd cheered. Feraligatr began to lead Empoleon to the opposite side of the stage from whence he had come, and handed him over to Simipour. Simipour nodded once more, and took the Water Nation Senator off the stage. He seemed to be struggling to walk more and more as they went. Charmander felt concerned; he should have known better than to come here in his condition!

Out of the corner of his eye, Charmander saw Kabutops conversing with the armored Blastoise.

"Next!" Feraligatr shouted. "We'd like to commemorate Slowking the Lout, a very unfitting name for someone who has been through so much. Slowking was dragged underground by Gabite, and was at first considered one of the first victims of the Ground Nation's betrayal. He fought for what he says was an eternity, and though even he himself thought he was dead, he managed to deter his attackers, and came out on top. His dedication to the Water Nation is strong, and even in the face of death, he has fought to serve this Nation."

Slowking came up behind Feraligatr and tapped on his shoulder. When Feraligatr swung around to look at him, he indicated the mic. Feraligatr stepped back, allowing Slowking to speak. The warrior cleared his throat and spoke one simple sentence; "This Nation and my daughter are the only things in this world I will fight to my death for, and when I die, know that it will be protecting my Nation."

Cheers echoed throughout the crowd. Slowking waved as he walked off the stage, though no smile crossed his face. _Just like he was when he was with us_ , he thought. _But I do need to admit; those scars make him look fairly badass._

Charmander heard Kabutops mention Golduck to the Blastoise. Charmander couldn't help but smirk. Perhaps Kabutops would attempt something that night for their benefit.

"And finally," Feraligatr said, smiling, "who could forget Greninja? Greninja stayed here and held down Aquarius while we fought. It was his job to protect this city, and we all know he would have fought tooth and nail given the chance. For that, I am glad to be a brother-in-arms with him."

The crowd cheered, but it didn't drown out what Kabutops said to the Blastoise; "Take care of the kids."

Charmander's eyes widened.

"Now," Feraligatr said, putting an arm around Greninja, "how do you feel about who we are?"

"What do you mean?" Greninja asked, smiling, looking like he was preparing for some sort of punchline to a joke.

Feraligatr's smile widened. "Well, you see," Feraligatr said into the mic, though still addressing Greninja, "this world that we live in… well, it's broken. We all fight one another, and none of us are able to triumph. We all pray to Arceus, or to Darkrai, or to no one, but what difference does it make, we say? Well, I think we all know it makes _plenty_ difference."

Charmander's mind was racing. The Blastoise were everywhere, scattered throughout the crowd, surveying everything. All they had to act upon were their orders, the order to keep things calm if things went awry. _But what about their weapons?_ Charmander thought.

"You are all worshipping false deities," Feraligatr said matter-of-factly. "All you do is bow and grovel before something that you made for yourself, and I'm not just talking about Arceus. I'm talking about this world. This disgusting excuse for a world, where killers are allowed to walk free where they live. A world that deserves to be, nay, _needs_ to be _cleansed_!"

"What the hell is he talking about?" Golduck murmured. Charmander glanced at all of his friends. Yes, not his companions, his friends, he felt. They looked worried, but not panicked. Charmander, though, he felt panicked. He felt panicked because he could see the Blastoise now had a hand on the hilt of his sword.

"What we need," Feraligatr continued, "is to come underneath the rule of our one true ruler. One that will not tolerate the behavior of outsiders. One that will purge this world of those that do not worship him. Millions will die, yes. Most in this room will die. But I can assure you, your sacrifices will be for the greater good!"

"What's going on?" Greninja asked nervously, but Feraligatr held him close, crushing him against him.

The Water Nation Senator surveyed the crowd for a moment in silence. Then, he sighed. "Clearly you aren't getting it," he said. "What I'm trying to say is something wonderful! The King is upon us! Long may he reign!"

No one saw the knife until it was sliding across Greninja's throat. Screams of terror echoed through the dining hall. People were rising from their seats in a panic. Swords from the Blastoise were being unsheathed, stabbed into the backs and fronts and sides of unsuspecting civilians. "Dad!" Froakie shouted, but Piplup silenced him. They were all up, so fast, everything was a blur.

Golduck led them out. She looked over at Kabutops and blew a blast of water over his shoulder. The Blastoise behind him had raised its sword over his head. Now it and the sword clattered to the ground. "Come on!" Golduck shouted at her fellow warrior. "We need to get o-!"

Kabutops drilled his bladed arm into Lady Golduck's stomach. She watched him, transfixed with shock, as he pulled his arm out, then drilled it in again, and again, slicing up her insides, churning her body up as he did so. She couldn't even tell the trainees to go, but it was readable enough on her face. The five of them ran somewhere, anywhere.

They were on the stage now. Too fast. It was all going by too fast. Froakie was approaching his father, not aware of Feraligatr just behind him, lumbering towards him, a bloodied hand reaching out for him. Suddenly, there was a flash as something jumped on top of Feraligatr. It took Charmander a moment to recognize Slowking, jumping out of the carnage to save them. "Go!" he shouted. "Get to the exit up there and-!"

He didn't finished. Feraligatr's claws sliced open the Great Warrior's throat. This time there was no questioning it; Slowking was dead.

"Come on!" That was Piplup's voice, and that was his flipper picking up Froakie. Froakie was covered in blood, drenched in that of his father. Piplup tugged him along, down the steps of the stage, and the rest of them followed suit, because Feraligatr was gaining behind them, and he was lumbering down the steps.

"He's dead," Charmander heard Froakie mumble over and over again as they made their way through the carnage to the exit. "He's dead. He's dead."

Piplup responded. "No time to worry about that now, we-"

Suddenly, a large figure flopped down in front of them. Charmander didn't recognize it; all he saw was that it was dead. Then, Piplup said his name; "Senator Walrein!"

 _This isn't happening_ Charmander thought. _This can't be happening. A Senator and Great Warrior betraying their entire Nation. Four important figures already dead. But how many more?_

Charmander turned around just in time to see a Blastoise's blade coming down on him, but not in time to block it. Before the blade could come down on him, though, something yellow came out from one of the seats, crawling. Immediately, Charmander rolled back, but barely. The blade came crashing down blindly on the yellow thing, and Charmander realized with a start that it was Psyduck. He locked eyes with the trainee that was as good as dead. In it he could see hate and blame, accusatory of what had happened. _See that_? those eyes seemed to say. _You just killed me._

Before the Blastoise could lift its blade from Psyduck's body, Charmander took his chance. He ran, breathing fire as he did so, harnessing the power he had. The Balstoise backed away, cowering, but it was not hurt because of the heavy armor it wore. Psyduck, though, screamed, and Charmander couldn't help but feel more guilty. _I'm sorry,_ he thought. _I'm sorry, I'm doing this to save me and my friends I'm so sorry._

But it didn't matter; it was gone, and he was gone.

They were close to the exit, so close, when suddenly, Slowpoke blocked their path. "No!" she shouted, tackling Piplup. "You won't leave! You must die!"

"Get the _fuck_ off me!" Piplup roared. He slammed Slowpoke in the chest with his flippers. She flew backwards, screaming. Piplup glared at her, then closed his eyes. Charmander watched with awe as his flipper became a silvery-gray color. It took only two seconds, but to Charmander, it felt like an eternity. Slowpoke was not phased. She ran at Piplup, screaming. Piplup merely swiped at her. Shock crossed her face. Then, her face broke open. Blood poured at Piplup's feet, and he watched for a few seconds, unfazed, as she died.

"Come on!" he shouted at last. He ran, and the rest followed.

They ran. Ran out of the city. Ran into the forest. Ran, ran, ran. At last, after what seemed like an eternity, they stopped to catch their breath. The moonlight shone down brightly on all of them. Froakie puked, and Piplup held him as he cried. "What the hell was that?" Torchic asked.

"His plan," Charmander said. "It wasn't to take us out. It was to take… to take _them_ out!"

"Oh no," Piplup said. "Dad…"

There was silence. Charmander broke it. "Look, we might be able to do something about this. Maybe we can go back, and do something."

"No," Piplup said. "No, you don't understand… you do know what this means, right?"

Charmander stared at Piplup blankly. What did it mean? What could it mean?

"Guys, we're never going back there," Piplup said. "We can't. Don't you see? Everyone was there."

And then the horrible realization was upon Charmander, and he shuddered under its weight.

"Everyone is dead," Piplup continued. "We can't go back there ever again. We can't go anywhere ever again. Don't you guys see? We can't go back to the Water Nation, even if we wanted to, because _there is no Water Nation to go back to._ "


	36. Totodile I

**Totodile**

Silence. That was all there was. He crawled out from under the seat he had hidden beneath when the chaos had first erupted. Silence? No, that wasn't quite true. He could still hear his breathing, shaky and barely audible, but still he could hear it. For a brief instant he thought he saw Lady Golduck's body blink. He looked at it hopefully, feeling his heartrate rise, a mad thought rushing through his head that perhaps if she was alive he'd be able to get out of there alive too. But no; she was dead, a fleshy hole in her stomach and a puddle of red around her.

Totodile backed away again, but not before glancing back up at the stage. The stage, where two bodies lay, their final resting places, the place where time would take their bones and eat them, because there was no way those bones would be buried in the dirt. Slowking lay at the back of the stage in a bloody, unrecognizable heap. But the body that meant more, the one that stuck out more than that of the hero who had tried to kill his father, was Greninja's. It hung partway off the edge of the stage, unmoving, dangling, blood still dripping from his open throat. Totodile could only look at it for a second before he had to turn away.

He could still hear them in there, lumbering about. The Balstoise were going around to all of the bodies that were struggling and jamming their swords into them as many times as it took to stop them from moving again. Totodile knew this because Simipour had been crawling towards him, one of her legs having been reduced to a stump, a bleeding wound across her beautiful face, whispering words of hope to him as she crawled, telling him they could still get out of there. Then the falseness of her statements had been crushed as a Blastoise swung his blade down on her crippled body, once, twice, three times, and then she was still, nothing more than a bleeding mass that had once housed a soul.

The Blastoise had seen him, but it had done nothing to him. Perhaps his father thought he would be able to convince him to stay, to reason that it was all for the best, that he was doing this for Totodile. That was a heaping pile of shit, and Totodile didn't need anyone to tell him otherwise.

His father; his voice broke through the silence of the room. "Everyone!" he heard him shout, and no longer did that voice bring Totodile joy, but rather fear, a cold fear that gripped his heart and turned it to ice. This was not the man he had lived with for so long. This was not the father that had cared for him after his mother's death, that had told him he was one of the most precious things in the world to him. This was not that man. This was a monster.

"Can I have your attention please?"

Cautiously, Totodile raised his head up. He looked around for the location of the voice, but all he could see were Blastoise dotted around the room, most of them near the exit. Suddenly seeing that, the room became stuffy and warm, as though it was about to start shrinking, closing in on him, suffocating him with its might. He felt dizzy, felt the stress of the situation suddenly weigh upon him. As if it wasn't bad enough something like this happened whenever things became too stressful. Now his father had destroyed him and broken him down. Was that what he wanted? To break him down, make it harder for him to escape? Maybe. But he had to escape, at any cost. This was his life that was a stake, the only thing he had left.

Feraligatr was lumbering onto the stage, making a beeline for the microphone. Totodile prayed to Arceus he would just drop dead of a heart attack on his way there, but of course for someone as fit as his father it wasn't something that was going to happen any time soon. Feraligatr was drenched in blood, whose blood Totodile already knew; he'd seen Feraligatr go for Piplup, Froakie, and the others from the Fire and Grass Nations, and had watched in awe as Slowking had leapt from the darkness in a brave attempt to save them all, dying in the process. It had not been in vain; they were gone. Totodile had seen them run outside. He only hoped they had made it.

Feraligatr kicked Greninja's body off the stage, where it landed on the ground with a thump. Then, he began. "Now, as many of you know, tonight was a productive night. But, and I need to stress this _very_ much and I need to make it _very_ clear, this night is not the end. First, of course, we have Senator Suicune, who is currently in Riversville and therefore, duh, is not here. Then there's the matter of Crawdaunt who, surprise, is _also_ in Riversville with Suicune. We all know why, now, don't we?"

Dry laughter broke the silence, and it filled Totodile's heart with fear. Feraligatr continued. "Now, we also have the problem of the _children_. You know, the most important part of this whole thing? Now, we _do_ have Empoleon. That is true. But, as Garchomp's told me, he won't work as well when it comes to bringing Him back."

Him. The word stuck out to Totodile. Something about it was important, holding an air of necessity and of greed and of something else, something much darker than anything that could be described with the words the world had at its disposal. Not even menacing or dangerous or vile could describe it, just the one word of familiarity and the way his father used it; Him.

"But I'm not worried," Feraligatr revealed. "No. We will find them again. They can't escape us. You know it, I know it. We _all_ know it. We are everywhere. We come in the day or the night, sun or rain or snow, here to make the world a better place. Here to get rid of all we've ever known, because what we've known isn't good enough for the one that made this world in His image. _We_ are the truth. _We_ are the chosen. We are _the Reapers!_ "

The crowd cheered. All at once, Totodile felt his body go into overdrive. With one burst of energy he was gone, rushing past the Blastoise that tried to get in his way, that tried to reach out and grasp him and drag him into the fold of the Reapers, whatever the hell they were, but he reached for the door and threw it open, even as his father was shouting after him something he didn't hear because his mind was too panicked because the thing that had stood on that stage and had massacred everyone and everything in that building and had reduced Aquarius to a ghost town and if there were still residents they wouldn't be there no not anymore not when the Blastoise came to get them and he Totodile he wouldn't allow it to happen to him he wasn't about to be the nameless victim of a war he hadn't signed up for and so he ran and he ran and he…

He stopped.

He was near a tree, so he leaned against it. He wanted to cry so badly, but the fear and the adrenaline rushing through his body made it impossible. He looked up at the branches above them, staring into the dark leaves that obscured the dim light of the moon. He felt no protection beneath them. He felt no protection at all. He had been safe. He had been home. But his own home had torn his home away. His own family had taken his family away. How was that? How could that be?

He wasn't going to sleep. He was filled with too much energy. His legs jittered continuously, begging to run. So he did. He ran into the night and didn't look back. And after an hour of running he did find the strength to cry, and his tears left tiny spots on the dirt.


	37. Tepig V

**Tepig**

The darkness was everywhere, a consuming mass all around him. It gnawed at him, making it even harder to sleep than it already was. He kept on thinking about what would happen if he didn't sleep for two nights in a row. Would his body be able to handle that much sleep deprivation, or would he be sitting there and suddenly crash for eighteen, twenty-four hours? He didn't know. All he knew was that the moon was the only light he could see, dim and faded behind his curtains. He also knew that the hospital bed wasn't comfortable at all. Not in the least. He kept shifting around in it, kept trying to make himself more comfortable on the flat rock he was forced to call his bed. But nothing came of it. He was trapped in the ever-revolving door of twisting and turning, the bed an uncomfortable, hard, lumpy mess.

His mind kept going back to the morning. To Monferno lying in his bed, crying, calling himself useless. To Quilava, there by his side, allowing him to weep into his shoulder, taking Monferno's sorrow away with the truth, no matter how corny it had been. It was true and it was pure, and Tepig envied it. It made him think about how unhappy he was, about how terrible he felt when he was with and without Fennekin. Fennekin, he realized, had become his curse. She was everywhere when he didn't want her there. And when she wasn't there, he needed her. But not to love. Only to like. Only as a friend.

Was that the problem he had? He thought it could be the root, so he allowed his mind to continue further in thought. Perhaps it was just Fennekin herself. The two of them had grown up together, played in the same world and trained in the same places. They were practically family. It was gross of him to think this way, but he couldn't help feeling that Fennekin was more of a sister to him than a lover.

Now, of course. Before, though, after his parents had died and all he could think about was the sweet release death could provide for him, she had been there with him, sitting on the steps of a broken house, letting him rest his head on her shoulder. They had sat that way for hours, watching as other Fire Nation citizens passed by in the streets, looking at Tepig with a sympathy he sometimes didn't know was real but other times realized was as pure as it could get. And then she had kissed him gently, and he had kissed her, unable to help it, impulsively yearning for her. She had led him inside and into his room, the room that was probably rotting away from being empty for so long. There she had loved him and had whispered to him the secret she'd been keeping for so long, rubbing against him as she professed her undying passion for him.

But that was the past. That was before he realized that she was only a crutch to him, before every day the guilt consumed him and he was forced to put on a fake smile for her, all for her, giving up his livelihood for her just because he couldn't bring himself to break her heart. It wasn't going to free him if he did tell her, but only lock him even tighter in the cage. She would cry and she would wallow in her own self-loathing and hatred, and he would have done that to her. He would have led her down that path. What was worse; giving up your soul for someone you don't love to save theirs, or saving yours soul but giving up a friend's in return? None of it was right.

And then there was light.

Tepig glimpsed her small, shadowy form just as the door closed behind her. She didn't say a word as she approached, her tiny feet tapping lightly on the floor. He closed his eyes and listened as she approached, and in that moment he understood what she had come here for. He felt her body brush up against his as she climbed into the bed with him. He felt her weight on top of him, her body warm and fluffy against his skin, like having a feathery pillow atop him. She moved back and forth against him, kissing his face, wanting him, waiting for him to signal to her that he was awake and wanted the same thing. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't.

"Please stop," he croaked, feeling tears suddenly spring to his eyes. She did, but she stayed on top of him for a moment more. Then she was off, leaping to the floor. The light didn't need to be so bright for him to tell her face was clouded with worry.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to be so up front it's just…it's been so long and you've been so distant these past few days and I…sorry."

"Please stop," he said again, and he realized there was no way for him to hide it any longer. He could feel it, the waters of truth pushing against the dam he'd created. And soon they would flood, and it would release into the world the worst of his punishments for someone who had never wronged him. He felt so horrible, but he couldn't stop, and it was about to come out in a rush.

"I know, Tepig," she said suddenly. "I know…I know you don't love me anymore."

The waters had poured out long before Tepig had noticed the cracks in the dam. And now it was time to clean up the mess.

"Fennekin, I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what else to say. I really don't."

"No, it's fine," she said in a way that made it apparent that it was anything but "fine." "I get it."

"Oh, Arceus, no," Tepig said. "It's not you Fennekin. It was never you. It was me."

"Stop trying to make me feel better," she snapped, startling him. "You and I both know it was me. I mean, if I wasn't putting enough into it, if you really weren't feeling like I loved you, you could have told me whenever you wanted to. We didn't have to do this little song and dance and hope for the best. Tepig, it could have been better. But now…now, I think maybe I've gone too far and it's too late."

"I'm not just saying it's not you," Tepig retorted, feeling the hidden torrent suddenly swirling and ejecting from the last of the cracks. "I'm telling you you're not at fault because you're not. You are one of the sweetest and kindest Pokémon I've ever known. You truly are. Fennekin, you're my best friend. And I think, I think that maybe that night, when you were comforting me at my house, I think that's just what I needed. I felt reinvigorated there, with you. But it was there, Fennekin. It was at that house.

"But now we're not in that house anymore. Now we're here. Now we're somewhere where that house doesn't matter, where that house is light years away. Now, Fennekin, we're here, in a hospital room, surrounded by people. Here, in the open, and now I just…don't feel it. I haven't for a long time, probably longer than I'd like to admit to myself. And please don't take it the wrong way because I care about you Fennekin, I do. You're one of my best friends. You're the only friend I have left. Please…can you accept that? Is that…okay?"

He could see something shining in the moonlight, and he realized it was far from okay. "Okay?" she said. Then, shouted; "Okay!? I've lost all of my friends in the past three days, Tepig! Everyone! Ponyta's dead, Charmander and Torchic are Arceus knows where, my mother is too consumed by her work, and all Braixen does is ignore everyone! So no, Tepig, it's not okay! It's not _damn_ okay for you to just spring on me this _thing_ that's just…and out of nowhere!"

"Not out of nowhere," Tepig corrected. "You're the one who brought this up, even if I told you to stop, how could you just suddenly know that I wasn't happy? You didn't just suddenly know. You've known for a long time, maybe as long as I have, that it's not going to work out. It just _isn't._ "

"Screw you," Fennekin retorted, turning to leave.

He heard a few patters when he finally burst out, "I was never going to tell you."

She stopped. He heard her turn around and, knowing he now had her undivided attention, continued. "I was never going to. I was going to just sit here and wait for it all to get better, somehow. I was going to marry you, Fennekin. I would have, given the chance. I would have fathered children, I would have trained to become a Great Warrior like my parents, I would have taught our children and grandchildren how to fight. As crazy as it sounds, I would go that far. I would have, and don't think for a second I wouldn't have. And I wasn't going to do it for me. I wasn't going to do it because I loved you, or because I was happy pretending to be in love with you. I was going to do it because you're my friend, and you deserve to be happy."

"And all for what?" she yelled. "You would do that, just give yourself up, make it look like we had something, this false thing that just falls away the moment you lay eyes on it? No. I'm glad you never got the chance to do that to me, to make me think you were just as happy as I was when you weren't. What would have happened twenty years from now if we were married, expecting a child, and suddenly I found out what you really felt, how you truly were? As a matter of fact, I'm starting to think maybe this was a good thing!"

"Fennekin, please, don't!" Tepig shouted, feeling the desperation in his voice, realizing how awful and how far-removed from the Tepig she once knew he must have sounded like. Not this brooding figure that cared and maybe cracked a few jokes, but the real Tepig. Now she could see that ugly monster. The one that was desperate for a heart to beat with, the one that felt the claws of death every second of every day because the thoughts only slowed down, they never truly went away. The one that was never in love with her, that would have given himself up to her just so she could live in a happy little lie, because what else was there left for this poor trainee without a mother or father? What was there that was left for him other than to go on pretending to be happy?

Nothing. There was nothing left. And then there really was nothing left, because she walked out, letting in a little bit of light as she did so, then slamming the door forcefully, shaking the bed, making Tepig want to jump out of the bed and race after her and embrace and kiss her just to keep living the lie so she wouldn't leave him alone in the darkness of this room. It was colder now, her presence evaporated, a chill unexpectedly conquering him. He wrapped himself up even tighter in his miniscule blankets, his mind racing.

Everything was gone now. Nothing remained but the hope of repair. And even still, all it was was hope. How could hope help in the slightest? Fennekin was gone. Ponyta was dead. His parents were dead. Torchic was dead. Charmander was dead. There was nothing left but the darkness, and in it he hoped to find a way out. In it he hoped to find himself. Whatever that meant. He was too tired to think clearly. He needed rest.

When he closed his eyes, he suddenly discovered the bed was much more comfortable than it had been a few minutes ago. So comfortable, in fact, that he was asleep within minutes.


	38. Piplup VIII

**Piplup**

Piplup didn't understand how cold it could be until the night winds slashed through him. He shivered as the winds began to pick up, sudden and unrelenting in their push, almost trying to send him back to the carnage that had occurred just a few short hours before. Hours. That's all it had been, and that almost made him sick. Not even a day had passed. The sun hadn't even risen since he'd seen his entire Nation crumble in just a single moment, but still it felt like eons ago. Part of him kept coming back, a reassuring voice in his mind telling him none of what just happened was real. But then he looked around at the grave faces of his friends and realized he wasn't the only one wishing it was all just some nightmare they would wake up from soon.

They walked along, nothing but the dim moonlight helping them through the forest. Piplup didn't know how long it had been since they started this trek in no direction in particular, but he knew they had to keep moving. For all they knew, Feraligatr had sent out some of his small army to pursue them, and any moment now they could be jumped. Any moment that they were stationary, that was. If they kept moving, they were apt to be safer. Piplup knew that much in his daze.

His father. That was the one person he hadn't seen in the carnage. He hadn't seen his mutilated corpse, hadn't watched as the light of life faded from his eyes, and he certainly hadn't had to carve him up as the pounced on him with the threat of death like he had done to poor Slowpoke. _Poor_ Slowpoke. He almost laughed at that. Poor Slowpoke, the former friend that had tried to kill them.

But still, there was that one piece of hope, and that made him feel a little bit better. He couldn't say the same from Froakie, though. He was walking at a slower pace behind everyone else. Well, him and Chikorita, who was leaning against him as he silently wept. Piplup knew he was crying because of the slight, miserable little whimpers he heard every now and again that made him want to punch his friend in the face and tell him to shut up, it wasn't all about him. But he knew he wouldn't do that. He knew he _couldn't_ do that. He couldn't afford to lose someone else.

Torchic and Charmander walked in front of him solemnly, their faces and therefore their feelings hidden from Piplup's gaze. He guessed they were shaken, and who wouldn't be? But they weren't as bad as he and Froakie were right now. They hadn't lost people yet. Well, besides their parents. But even that hadn't shaken their resolve. Piplup felt that maybe he understood why.

It was each other. It was that companionship, whether friendship or romantic it didn't matter, because it was there. Froakie cried behind him, too, but maybe that was the best for him. Maybe that was the way it was supposed to be. And then there was him, Piplup. Why wasn't he crying? He couldn't feel the urge. It was as though someone had torn the ability to do so away from him and cascaded it down a cliff he could never go down to retrieve. He didn't even understand why he'd made such a comparison in his mind. It was the exhaustion. It was the hurt in his feet as they kept walking. It was the hurt in his heart as he kept remembering the horrors of the night.

Suddenly, Charmander stopped. Torchic barely noticed for about three paces before turning back to him quizzically. He could see there were tears in her eyes, and he suddenly felt sorry for them. But his own grief overwhelmed him, and he remained silent and unflinching as she asked Charmander what he was doing.

Now Charmander turned and faced all of them, his face shining with wet tracks that streaked his cheeks. He looked up at the moon for a moment with what seemed to be longing, though Piplup didn't understand what for. Maybe for a way out of this nightmare. Maybe for home.

But it didn't matter, because he was facing them once again, his eyes filled with sorrow and vengeance, and in that moment Piplup felt a swell of respect for him. He was not of the Water Nation, that much was evident, but he had seen injustice and wanted to do something about it. Piplup felt as though he were seeing Charmander for the first time; the trainee who would not back down from the world's need for justice, one that answered calls of help and did what he could to right this hellish world. Dare he think it (though he did), Piplup almost saw him as a leader.

"We should rest here for the night," Charmander suggested. "We can set up a guard every hour or so if you want, just to make sure…" He trailed off and looked down at the ground, any confidence that he may have been expressing suddenly dissipating. Piplup's heart leapt when he saw Charmander's face. He didn't just look older. He looked _old_.

Torchic shook her head. "There's no way in hell I'm sleeping tonight," she said. "I'll guard, wake you guys up if I see or hear anything."

Charmander looked at her for a long, silent moment. Then he nodded. "Alright," he said. "Yeah. If you get tired though, just wake me up."

"I won't," Torchic said.

Charmander kept looking at her for a long time, so long that Piplup thought time itself would end before he stopped. The he did, and his eyes surveyed the rest of their little group. "Okay guys," he said. "Sleep if you can. I just…we'll figure out where to go from here in the morning."

Froakie nodded and sniffed back his tears. Instantly, he went to the ground and curled up, shaking as he did so. The howling wind was continuing to get stronger, no longer a silent force, but rather one that could be heard speaking, groaning in the tree branches above. He could feel himself shaking as well; even when he tried to steady himself the wind continued to run its chill up and down his body.

"We should gather something for a fire," Chikorita suggested. Without warning, the little bulbs around her neck shot up, creating vines. Piplup looked and watched with a mixture of awe and apprehension as she tore branches off of the trees above them, her face giving off the massive strain on her little body it was to do so. But, after only a few minutes, they had a small pile of twigs. Charmander stood before them and took in a breath.

"Wait!" Piplup said, a realization coming to him. Charmander looked over at him. "The smoke," he explained. "It might attract some of them."

Charmander sighed. "Yeah," he said. "I guess you're right. But it's either that or we freeze to death."

Now it was Piplup's turn to sigh. "Yeah," he agreed. "Yeah, never mind. Just…start the damn fire."

Flames burst from Charmander's mouth and lit the twigs. The fire wavered the wind, but it did not go out, its spirit only weakened a bit by the rapid gusts that blasted it. Charmander curled up and few feet from it, and Chikorita led Froakie closer to it. Piplup lied down next to it as well, his back to it. He could see his shadow on the ground, nothing more than a dark lump. Beyond that he saw Torchic, staring out into the woods beyond for anything that may come in the night.

Piplup felt shocked by how easily the world began to fall away as his eyes slipped closed. One minute he was in a forest, worried about the rest of the world and what would and could happen as time continued to march on. Then he was home. In his home. Empoleon was there at the head of the table, laughing at something that the other one said. The other one? By Arceus, yes, the other one!

Prinplup sat there, laughing at his own joke. But that was okay, because it had been funny and Piplup and their father were laughing too. All three of them laughing at the table, a family once again. Prinplup glanced over at Piplup and smiled. "So," he said. "How's the training been going?"

Piplup beamed at his brother playfully. "Well, not to brag or anything, but I think I'm picking up on how things work faster than you."

Prinplup gave him a sly smile. "Oh yeah?" he said. "Well, we'll see come your first battle. If you're not shaking in your armor."

"Armor?" Piplup said. "Who need armor?"

Prinplup chuckled. "Ha! That's my baby brother! Always trying to be like me!"

Empoleon looked over at his son silently. "You know," he said. "Armor _is_ important. It's what's saved my life on a number of occasions. You shouldn't be encouraging Piplup to go out on his first battle without it."

"Yeah, ture," Prinplup agreed. "But still, _I_ don't need any armor. I'm too fast to get-"

Prinplup stopped and stared forward, wide-eyed. Piplup followed his gaze, then nearly fell out of his seat in shock. There, standing before them, was the blue-furred, bipedal, dog-like form of the Fighting Nation's Head Council Advisor; Senator Lucario.

Piplup swung his head over to Prinplup, then uttered a little cry as he saw blood pouring from his brother's mouth. Prinplup looked over at Piplup, his eyes pleading with him, begging him, and suddenly his voice was in his head, desperate and broken but loud and ferocious, something that could have been one voice, sure, but felt like a million; _**"WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE ME!"**_

"It's all your fault."

Piplup looked back over at Lucario, except it wasn't Lucario anymore. Now it was Feraligatr, his eyes filled with bloodlust, his smile stretched horridly across his face. In one hand he held Piplup's father by the head. He smiled. "You couldn't save either of them."

Blood splattered as Feraligatr's hand crushed Empoleon's head in one swift clench. Pink brain and crimson blood flew across the room, splattering hot and wet all over Piplup. He wanted to scream, but his voice was stuck in his throat. Feraligatr approached him. "It's time, now," he said.

"PIPLUP!"

A voice.

"PIP-!"

His brother from beyond.

"-LUP!"

"Gah!"

He was up, looking around. It was still dark, the night still consuming the world. He looked up and saw Charmander staring at him, his face filled with panic and concern. "Piplup?" he asked. "Piplup, are you okay?"

Piplup looked around, trying to take in everything. But all he could see was the dream. All he could see was the destruction of everything he'd held dear to him.

"I'm…I'm fine," he lied. "What…happened?"

"You were screaming in your sleep," Charmander said worriedly. "We thought you'd seen something out in the woods but you were asleep and…and are you sure you're okay?"

"Never better," Piplup said. "Just a bad dream was all."

He lowered his head back to the ground, closing his eyes. When Charmander wouldn't go away, he looked up and him and glared. Charmander locked eyes with him for a few seconds more, and in those seconds Piplup felt unimaginable pain. He couldn't lose anyone else. Not even a trainee from the Fire Nation that he'd only known for a few days. Not even him.

Charmander walked off without another word. Piplup lowered his head to the ground, feeling the chill of the wind still making him shiver, wondering what the point of the fire was if he was still cold. He closed his eyes, still seeing blood. But this time it was fresh and planned, all of it real. He could still see Greninja getting his throat cut on the stage. He could almost feel Golduck's insides being churned into mush by Kabutops. He wanted to vomit.

But he didn't. A dreamless sleep took him before he could.


	39. Totodile II

**Totodile**

Run. It's all he could do now. Run until the pain was gone. The pain of looking at the bodies strewn about the room. The pain of watching Simipour get unceremoniously cut to pieces like she was nothing but a toy doll. The pain of his father's betrayal. Most of all, though, the pain of guilt.

His father had done this for him. Not all of it for him. He wasn't the only one that the slaughter had been carried out for, but it had been enough. And now all those corpses laid heavy upon his little shoulders, and he wanted to scream but didn't just in case they were following him now and he didn't want to go back. He would rather die than go back to them.

It felt as though the sun was never going to come out again. The dark had lasted for so long, Totodile wasn't sure if what had happened had actually blotted the sun out from existence. He hoped not. He missed the sun. It seemed like it had existed so long ago. What had he been told as a child? The sun will always come out again even after the most dreary of days? It was a lie. There was no sun anymore. Just the empty darkness, infinite and smooth, beckoning, and he longed for it.

Somehow. He was tired. But he had to keep running. His legs were so sore, his muscles ached from the pain, but he had to keep running. It may have been the only thing keeping him alive. And he was not going to die, not today, not for his father or for whatever his father had been doing. He was going to live, even if it meant he would do so in fear forever, nothing more than a scavenging wanderer for the rest of his days, he would live. He would not let his father take him away. He would not let his father-

His father!

His shadow was unmistakable in the moonlight. It hadn't been facing him at first, but when it swung toward him, that large head facing him, those gleaming eyes dancing in the darkness, Totodile felt his feet melt beneath him. He kneeled, looking up at the familiar figure that wasn't quite so familiar anymore, not after he had proven himself to be a monster on the inside. He felt a scream slowly come out, but it was only a whispering whimper. He felt something wet beneath him, and realized with dread and embarrassment that his bladder had let go.

A smaller shape came up to him, one that was unfamiliar yet still, he knew, would be willing to destroy him with one quick command from his father. It came up to him slowly, menacingly, wanting to savor every moment of his fear. "Please," Totodile begged. "Please, don't hurt me."

"It's okay," the smaller figure said suddenly. "We won't."

Totodile glanced over at it. He couldn't see it well in the darkness, but he could see its eyes. They were filled with concern. Whether it was feigned or not, Totodile couldn't tell. But he wasn't about to trust it, not when his father was standing right in front of it.

Except it wasn't his father. No, it couldn't be. He stared at the large figure for a few more moments and realized its snout was much too long to be Feraligatr's. As he stared, the figure's colors also began to come into view. It was black and red striped, far removed from his father's blue and yellow body. But still, it didn't mean their mindsets weren't the same.

"How do I know my father didn't send you?" Totodile demanded.

"Well, because you're not a Snivy, Tepig, or Oshawott," the smaller figure explained.

"Shush!" the larger one said. "I understand you're trying to calm him, but you shouldn't tell him things he doesn't need to know."

"But I do need to know!" Totodile begged. "Please, you need to help me. The Water Nation, it's…it's gone!"

The larger figure's eyes lit up with interest. "What?" it asked, shocked.

"My father, Feraligatr, he…he went crazy! He started to talk about religion, and he started telling people Arceus wasn't the one true God of Pokémon. And then he stared to kill everyone and my friends, they might be there. There was…was Piplup and Froakie, and these others…oh, Arceus, please!"

The larger figure looked down on him for a moment. Then it stooped to the ground, its largesse blocking out the moon, encasing Totodile's world in darkness save for its outline. He couldn't even see the smaller figure anymore. "Tell me," the larger one said. "Did your father say anything unusual?"

"You bet your ass he did!" Totodile shouted. "Arceus, weren't you even listening to me!? He was talking about a new king, something about how they're going to make the world into someone's image. And he said…he said they were Reapers."

"Oh no," the little figure said, but the large one shushed him.

The large one looked back at Totodile with a stern face. "What is your name?" it asked.

"Totodile," he said quickly.

The figure nodded. "I am Krookodile," he said. "And this is Tyrunt. We are Wardens."

Totodile looked back and forth between the two of them, unsure of what he was supposed to be getting from this. "Well what the hell does that mean?" he asked.

"There is a war going on that is much bigger than the petty battles you fight amongst yourselves," Krookodile explained. "Reapers and Wardens. One that wishes to destroy the world, and one that wishes to preserve it. There is much more to it than that, but we can see you've had more than your fair share of encounters with what you don't know for today. Come with us, Totodile. We're on our way back to the Warden's base camp. It's safer this way. And any information you have may save the lives of thousands, perhaps millions."

"How do I know you won't take me back to my father?" he asked viciously.

"You don't," Krookodile said. "But I think you also know that you won't last long running blindly in the forest all alone."

Totodile looked at the figure for a moment. He weighed it, and realized what he had to do. He looked Krookodile in the eyes, still fearful, still not trusting a single word he said, but knowing it had to be done. "Take me with you."

Krookodile nodded. "We will," he said. "But only on one condition; you need to tell us everything that's happened to you tonight in the morning. Understood?"

Totodile nodded. "Yes," he said. "Yes. I understand."

"Good," Krookodile said. "Now let's all find a place to rest. There will be long days ahead of us, and we must all be rested for the battles to come."


	40. Moltres I

**Moltres**

Sunlight reflected off the wounded buildings.

Moltres stood in the center of the carnage, shocked. He felt his whole body quivering with an emotion he hadn't felt in years; fear. Not the kind of fear he felt on the battlefield for his brothers and sisters in arms, fearing for their safety over his. It wasn't even the fear of dying in battle, of somehow being overpowered by his opponents. It was a genuine fear. A real, tangible fear of the end. Because that was what all of these empty, hollowed-out buildings symbolized. That was what this new, fractured sunlight meant to him, and perhaps it would to anyone else that looked upon the carnage.

Aquarius was in ruins.

It was much worse than Furnace after the invasion of the Ground Nation. The first thing that told Moltres that was the emptiness. Not a soul stirred in the ruins, but there were no bodies to be found. Something had attacked, that much was evident, either something large and strong unlike the world had ever seen, or, more likely, an army that had somehow mustered the strength and fortitude to demolish the city. But who? And why?

The why of it could have been obvious, but to Moltres it just didn't make complete sense. He suspected Ground Nation, though the lack of holes in the earth (as burrowing would most likely be their strategy to invading) dismissed the idea. Not entirely, but mostly. There was also the fact that much of the destruction seemed to emanate from a specific spot, a large dome-shaped building that had had its walls practically shredded. It wasn't the most destroyed building of them all, but it was fairly broken-down and seemed to be the epicenter.

Moltres walked towards it slowly, careful not to step on any of the broken glass and wood chunks that lay strewn about as he went. He felt a heavy presence suddenly, as though something was on him. It was strange to feel every time, but he'd developed it over his years of constant training. And it was there, whatever it was. Watching him.

Then it leapt. He could hear its feet skirt a bit on the ground. Moltres turned, and all at once he felt certain that he had been right the first time. But then it stopped making sense. None of it did, how could it? He realized then with cold assuredness that the end was near. This was only the first step, and it years may pass before it comes, but the end of the war was drawing near. Something in the Gabite's eyes told him so.

Moltres dodged its slashing arm and flapped upwards, pushing a gust of fire at his assailant. The Gabite spun around and ran back a bit, nearly being burnt to a crisp by the inferno that had plumed from Moltres' wings. Its face contorted into a half-snarl, half-grimace as Moltres took a moment to admire the fear in its eyes. Then he let another gust go, fire swirling down towards the fearful figure. The Gabite tried to back up, but this time it was caught.

Flame swirled around it for a moment, encasing it in a shimmering orange prison. Moltres felt a bit of giddiness swim in his heart as the flames fell into the figure. The Gabite's head raised up as it growled in torment, the flames biting at its skin, blackening it severely.

Moltres grimaced at the sight, thinking back to the Blastoise he'd taken during the battle for the Red Desert. The one he'd tortured and killed for information, the one that had sent shockwaves through the little meeting he'd had with the rest of the Council because of his inhumane actions. It was enough that he felt guilty about that, but it was more that it seemed uncontrollable. He knew it was wrong to do this to other Pokémon, to treat them as subordinate just because they weren't on the side he was born on. But it was the only thing that worked. Moltres understood that he could capture this Gabite and get it back to the Council and perhaps have it tied up for them to gawk at and maybe ask a few questions towards, but how would that accomplish anything? It wouldn't. It would make them a reasonable target for the Ground Nation when they finally got the strength to attack again (which Moltres doubted they wouldn't do again), give the soldiers something to fight for. "The big bad Fire Nation has one of our men," Garchomp would shout at the front lines. "Do you really want to give up to these insidious bastards!?"

Moltres couldn't let that happen. He was instilled with a sense of duty, more now than ever after he'd let the Emboar's be killed by the Water Nation. It was his job to make sure no one else died because of him. And he wouldn't allow himself to take a prisoner just to paint a target on the Fire Nation's back.

He flew directly into the flames, his large talons closing on the Gabite's throat. It looked up at him groggily, like it was just waking up from a nap. A nap, however, would have been deadly, for the Gabite may not have woken up if he fell asleep. His body was red and black, charred to the point that there was nothing of a Gabite left, save for the brain. It was just a lump. A large, black, fleshy lump.

"What happened here?" Moltres demanded, glaring ferociously into the Gabite's eyes (which he could only see as little glints in the blackness).

The Gabe's face contorted a bit, and it took Moltres a moment to realize it was smiling. He looked up only to see streaks of blue flash towards him. Quicker than ever, he flapped his wings, booming up into the air, leaving a plume of fire to spread out on the ground below. The charred Gabite screamed, then fell silent.

Moltres looked down at the six blue shapes below him. All of them were Gabite, but they had come truly prepared to attack. They wore silver armor that glinted in the sunlight. While not good for camouflage, Moltres understood it _was_ good for protection. His fire would do nothing to harm them. The claws on the ends of their arms were also equipped with large, sickle-shaped weapons that made them look almost as dangerous as Garchomp himself. They looked up at him menacingly, their glares telling him that if he even thought about coming down there to fight, they were going to slice him into unrecognizable bits.

Moltres smirked.

He dove downward, his beak aiming straight for the middle of the pack. All of them backed up quickly to form a large circle, hoping to trap the Fire Nation warrior once he'd managed to firmly plant his beak into the ground. It was at that moment Moltres knew how new at this they must have been, and pitied that their time in battle would be over so quickly.

At the last moment, Moltres swooped up and flapped his wings. Fire spread, a large, unexpected burst. While it would do no damage to them, it was sure to blind them for a few seconds. Moltres took the opportunity and swiftly picked two of the Gabite up, hoisting them into the air. Before they knew what was going on and long before either would have the sense to slash at him, Moltres dropped them from thirty feet in the air. Their screams pierced the sky as they fell. They stopped once they landed with simultaneous clunks on the ground, their bodies motionless and their heads turned at odd angles.

The other four looked up at him, fuming. "We're gonna kill you for that!" one of them shouted. Moltres made a mental note of that one and dove again, his beak aiming straight for the center of their re-established group.

This time they stood their ground, huddled together as tightly as they could possibly be while not stabbing each other with their sickle-claws. For a moment Moltres felt panic grip him. He wondered if maybe his plan wasn't going to work and he was going to have to try what he already did, though that would put him at a much greater risk for an injury. Once he was closer, though, he could see the opening in the armor just above the closest Gabite's chest. Moltres felt at ease as he flew into the heart of his enemies.

He flapped his wings just as he was approaching the Gabite. In the span of less than a second he'd managed to blind them all and skewer one of his beak. It gulped and made a short hissing sound as he quickly pulled out, flopping to the ground. Moltres looked around, saw one Gabite, and grabbed hold of it with his talons. Quickly, he dug one of them into his throat. It struggled for a moment, then lay still.

The other two were approaching him now, ready with their sickle-claws raised. Moltres released his grip on the dead Gabite, letting it fall to the ground. He jumped forward at an odd angle, almost falling himself as he pinned the two Gabite to the ground. One tried to slash at him, and that one he slowly pressed down on, his talon breaking through the armor easily, right into its chest. It was a risky move, but Moltres knew most of the fireproof armor used by most of the other Nations was fairly weak when it came to physical force. He'd been lucky this time, but he made a mental note not to try that again.

With this final Gabite he tore off its armor quickly, the metal flying high into the air, shining down, then crashing unceremoniously in some nearby ruins. He allowed the Gabite to keep the helmet on, and that was it. He pinned it to the ground with his talon. "Oh, Arceus, have mercy!" he begged.

"I will let you live," Moltres promised. "But you need to tell me what happened here."

"Okay, okay, I will!" the Gabite said. "After we invaded Furnace, we…we came back here, the Ground Nation. Garchomp wanted to get one last invasion in, see if we could get Aquarius. And…and we did."

"You're lying," Moltres accused, not really knowing it or not. But he knew something was amiss. He could tell just by the fact that there were just a few Ground Nation soldiers stationed in the city. Shouldn't there have been more if Ground Nation just invaded? It made a lot more sense if soldiers were moving _to_ the city from somewhere else. That was why there were so few; they were coming from somewhere else, meaning something else had happened. It was just a guess though.

The Gabite was crying. "No, please, I'm not lying! Just let me go!"

"If you're lying, I'll kill you," Moltres said. "And don't think I won't enjoy every second of it."

The Gabite's eyes widened. "Okay, okay! Okay, it was Feraligatr!"

Moltres looked at the Gabite closely. "What?"

"That's what Garchomp said. But I just heard it in passing! I'm nowhere _near_ enough important. Feraligatr, Kabutops, something about reaping, I don't know! Just…just let me go."

Moltres looked at him hard for a few seconds. "This story about the Ground Nation invading," he said. "Garchomp told you to use that in case you ran into any trouble?"

"Y-yes," the Gabite confessed. "He said…he said if we didn't he'd kill us."

"Well," Moltres said. "You'd better get to running then."

He relaxed his grip on the Gabite and stepped off him. The soldier sat there, stunned, as though Moltres had just slapped him in the face. "You…you're letting me live?"

"I told you I was going to, didn't I?" Moltres asked.

"No, no, please, you gotta kill me!"

Moltres turned around, surprised. "What?" he asked. "No. I already told you you're free to go."

"No, you don't understand," the Gabite said, staring at the ground and shaking his head slowly. "He's gonna kill me. But he won't just kill me. He'll kill my mom. My dad. My little sister. My wife. My son. He'll kill my friends, their families. It'll look like accidents for all of them, except me. He'll wait on me. He'll let me watch everything fall apart. And it doesn't matter if I run. One of us ran once. It didn't make a difference. Garchomp can sniff us out. Says he has eyes everywhere, and if one of us steps out of line, he'll know it."

"How do I know this is true?" Moltres questioned. "And if it is, how have you allowed yourselves to live like that."

The Gabite chuckled. "It's not the Ground Nation. It's us. The Special Operatives. The ones no one's supposed to know about. My wife, she thinks I'm just a soldier. But not us. We're more than that. We were chosen."

"Sorry luck that's brought you, then," Moltres said unsympathetically, though his heart was racing a bit fast at this stressful revelation. What would the Ground Nation need a Special Operations branch of their army for? It was simplistic; everyone needed to know everything, and that was that. Fighting was for land and sea and sky, and everyone had their own way of going about it, but there were no branches. There was just the army.

"So you're not gonna do it, then?" the Gabite shouted.

"No," Moltres said, hoping the Gabite would just run away.

"Fine," it said, then brought its claw to its throat and swiftly punctured it. Blood flowed from the hole and the Gabite croaked, then crumpled over.

Moltres sighed, flapped his wings, and flew away. He would report all of this to the Council. No doubt they would want to hear about the conditions of the Ground Nation. But at the same time, he was worried about what may have happened to everything and everyone. Was there a Water Nation anymore? What did it mean if Feraligatr had been the one to orchestrate what looked like a mass destruction on his own people? Where were the children? Were they involved somehow?

But the worst question, the one that made Moltres' skin crawl and made him feel a chill throughout his body, was this: If the Water Nation had fallen at the hands of a Senator, could the Fire Nation also have a traitor in its ranks?


	41. Charmander XII

**Charmander**

Charmander woke up to the sound of silence. For a moment he forgot where he was, wondering for that instant what he was doing sleeping on the dirt ground where only a few blades of grass sprung up. Then he remembered the blood and the weeping, and he instantly felt his heart sink. Sighing, he stood. He stretched, looking up at the sun beaming down on them. For the day after such a tragedy, it was much too bright.

He looked around to see three shapes curled up on the ground. Piplup had his back to the fire, facing outward into the forest (it was upon seeing him that Charmander realized they had stumbled into a clearing in the dark and had taken refuge there. He shivered then, looking at how large the clearing actually was in the daylight, realizing how exposed they were and how easy it would have been for Feraligatr to catch them had he pursued). To his right and closer to the fire were Chikorita and Froakie. Froakie's arm was wrapped around her body tightly and her head was buried in his shoulder. Charmander noted this with warmth and unease. It was necessary for them to give comfort to one another in their shared time of need, but the way Chikorita and Froakie had their bodies pressed against one another made Charmander feel a bit uneasy. If something were to happen…well, what would the future hold?

For a brief instant panic gripped his heart, and his mind whirled in a tizzy, wondering where Torchic was. Then he relaxed when he saw her, too, on the ground, curled up roughly fifteen feet away from Piplup, her back to him. Charmander walked over to her, careful not the wake the others (though he knew he would have to soon). When he got to her, he stooped down and laid his tiny claw lightly on her shoulder. "Torchic," he said. "Wake up. It's morning."

Torchic rolled over and opened her tired, large eyes. Charmander noticed her eyes were sagging a bit and realized that she probably hadn't been asleep for too long. The first thing she said confirmed his suspicions; "I fell asleep when the sun started rising."

"Torchic, you didn't have to," Charmander said. "You could have woken me up."

"I told you I wasn't going to," Torchic said. "So I didn't." She stood up, glaring at him as though she'd taken extreme personal offence to what he'd said.

"Torchic, it's okay to get help," Charmander said. "No matter what, whether we like it or not…we're all in this together now."

"I know," Torchic said, turning away. "It's all just happening so fast. I've barely had the time to think about my father's death, let alone what happened last night. It just…it hasn't hit me yet, Charmander. Even after seeing what happened, what Feraligatr did to his own people. Even though I know my father is dead he…I just can't process it all."

"I know," Charmander said, feeling the same way. He had barely even thought about his father since the battle, as though Charizard was light-years away from him and completely inconsequential to what was going on. Suddenly, he had a realization. But he saved it as Torchic went on.

"It's like it's unreal," she said. "Like everything we've been through these past few days is just some nightmare I'll wake up from soon. But every time I _do_ wake up, it just sends me right back here. Is…is something wrong with me?"

Charmander put a hand on her shoulder. "No," he said. "Nothing's wrong with you. It's…it's a lot right now, but I think…I don't really know how to say it."

"Say what?" Trochic inquired.

Charmander sighed. "So we know Feraligatr has hologram caller. But we don't actually know who he's been in contact with. But he also said he knew about what happened in Furnace. What exactly did he say to you again?"

Torchic thought back. "Our parents died of the injuries Garchomp gave them. He said Ponyta was dead, and that Monferno was in an unstable condition. He didn't say anything about Tepig and Fennekin. And the capitol building is just…gone."

"But how much of that do we really know is true?"

Torchic's head snapped up and she looked at him with shimmering eyes. "What?"

"Feraligatr's a monster and a liar, we know that now. Then how can we even be sure Furnace was attacked at all? How can we know the Ground Nation didn't just leave? I mean, Torchic, there's still hope!"

Torchic's head drooped and she turned away sadly. "Or Feraligatr's in contact with someone in Furnace, someone just like him. Maybe Ground Nation didn't attack. Maybe it was whoever he was talking to. Maybe what happened in Aquarius is going to happen in Furnace soon."

Charmander's heart sank. He'd been so entranced by the idea that their parents were alive, so enthralled by the possibility of seeing his father one more time that he hadn't even considered the possibility that everything Feraligatr said was true, but was coming from a villainous source. And one inside the ranks of the Fire Nation, no less. He didn't know how to respond.

Torchic walked passed him, her eyes now glazed over with a new sense of sorrow. "Come on," she said. "Let's wake them up." It was at that point, when he saw her eyes and heard the monotone of her voice that Charmander knew it had hit her, and she was just too worn-down to cry. He felt guilt creep up on him and wanted to apologize, but she was already out of his reach.

Torchic nudged Piplup with her foot. "Come on," she said. "It's time."

Piplup stirred and looked around, blinking, looking like Charmander felt when he first woke up; dazed and confused. Then it seemed to come down on him too when he saw Charmander. He looked away, then back up. Charmander walked over to him and held out his hand. "It's time we get moving," he said, each word feeling heavier than the last. Piplup nodded, but stood up on his own.

Torchic had nudged Chikorita and Froakie awake without a word. The two had untangled themselves from one another before Piplup could see, but Torchic cast a suspicious glance over at them. Charmander understood how she felt and he could see she wanted to say something about it, but now wasn't the time. There were more important matters than possible inter-type romance to worry about now.

The five of them sat down in a circle, looking at one another. Torchic was on Charmander's left while Piplup was on his right. Next to Piplup was Froakie, then Chikorita. They sat like that for a while. Unable to take much more of the silence, Charmander spoke. "So. Where do we go from here?"

"Not back to Aquarius," Piplup sighed. "We could try to find the town where Suicune and Crawdaunt are at."

"They weren't there?" Froakie asked.

Piplup shrugged. "I didn't see them. Plus I heard about a week back they were going somewhere. I think it was Riversville, but I'm not sure. Plus to get there without going into another Nation's land would mean passing through Aquarius again. And there's no way in hell I'm gonna risk getting captured or killed by another Nation's soldiers."

"We could always go through Grass Nation," Chikorita said. "I could vouch for you all."

Piplup shook his head. "Who would believe you? Plus, with your father and sister dead if we ran into the wrong type of people they could just kill us all without a second thought."

"No one in the Grass Nation would do that to me!" Chikorita shouted.

"Loyalty isn't always guaranteed," Piplup said. "You think you know someone and then they turn around and stab you in the back. Hence why we're here, if you haven't noticed, princess."

Chikorita looked at him hard for a few moments. Charmander felt his heart beating hard, wondering if she was about to attack him. But at last, her gaze fell away. Piplup looked at her for a few seconds more, then proceeded. "Plus, Riverville's pretty far up. We'd have to pass through Electric Nation too, and there's no way I'm risking that, especially since we had a squabble with them about two months ago and took twenty square feet from them."

"So Riverville's out," Charmander said. "Anyone got any other suggestions?"

Froakie spoke tentatively. "We could always go to Furnace," he suggested. "Maybe the damage isn't as bad as Feraligatr said it was."

Charmander stepped in to disagree. "If it isn't," he said. "They won't accept Water Nation." Before Froakie could protest, Charmander pushed forward. "Just because of what happened in Aquarius they might attack. As far as we know, our parents are dead, meaning Fire Nation is out two very important Senators. They'll be hostile towards Water Nation. Even though it was Garchomp that killed them, it was still your Nation's alliance that caused it. They might take an opportunity to get as much land from Water Nation as they can if they find out."

"Well then I can take them," Chikorita said. Charmander looked at her, bewildered. She put her head down but continued. "Grass Nation _is_ safe," she said. "There hasn't been any recent conflict between us and Water Nation at all. They'll be more acceptable of them. Plus, you and Torchic need to head back home and make sure everyone there is safe."

"No we don't."

Charmander stared at Torchic, who looked around at everyone around her with dark eyes. Charmander shivered at that cold gaze. Then he felt sorrow as he watched it break into pain. "If Feraligatr was telling the truth, then we'll be going home to ruins. If he wasn't, then it could be even worse. Better? Maybe. But for all we know Feraligatr got his information from someone in the Fire Nation through that hologram of his. If he did, who's to say what happened in Aquarius hasn't already happened in Furnace?"

Everyone looked down expect Charmander. He stared at Torchic, watching helplessly as that pain consumed her. He wanted to do something, anything, to tell her it was going to be okay, that they were going to make it. But he didn't think he could. He didn't know _how_ he could. He wanted to hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. And he wanted her to hold him and tell him the same. But how could two hopeless people comfort one another and inspire hope in such a dispiriting place?

"Then we all go back to Grass Nation."

Charmander turned, stunned that it was Piplup who'd spoken. He was looking at the ground, clearly unsure of himself. "Chikorita," he said. "You say you can get me and Froakie in there and can vouch for us?"

"Um, yes," Chikorita said, a bit surprised.

"Then it's settled. We're all going to Grass Nation, and you're going to have to vouch for us."

A mixture of emotions was running through her face so fast that Charmander could barely keep track of them all. He saw hope, shame, pride, fear. Most of all mourning. Then she spoke. "But didn't you just say if we run into the wrong Pokémon we could all end up dead?"

Piplup nodded. "Yeah," he said. "But the way I see it is this; if we try for Riversville we get torn apart by either Grass or Electric Nation soldiers. If we go for Furnace we run the risk of being killed by Ground Nation or a traitor in the Fire Nation. If we split up, then half of us face almost certain death while the other half face possible danger. It's an easy choice. It's risky, but it's the best choice we have."

Chikorita nodded. "Yes," she said. "Yes, I agree." Then she looked around at all of them, a cold seriousness uncharacteristic of her on her face. "I will vouch for all of you," she promised. "We're going to be in Ivy City soon, and we'll be safe there."

Charmander nodded, though he wasn't too sure about how he felt about that. But now wasn't the time. She was saying more. "I know a place we can stop on the way to Ivy City," she said. "One of our medics is stationed there. He can send word to the city before we arrive."

"Does Grass Nation have hologram callers?" Piplup inquired.

Chikorita shook her head. "No," she said. "But we have our own way of sending messages long distances. You'll see when we get there."

"Then it's settled," Froakie said. "I'm in if everyone else is."

Torchic nodded. "It's the best option," she agreed.

Charmander nodded as well. "Yeah," he said. "You lead on, Chikorita. We'll follow."

Chikorita beamed with pride, though Charmander could still see worry in her eyes. It was natural, not only after what they had just been through, but also because of the flimsy situation they were sure to be walking into. It would be dangerous and tough, but they could make it, so long as they kept out of sight.

Chikorita looked up at the sky, examining the sun. While high in the sky, it was obvious from which direction it rose, as it was still slowly inching its way up the sky. "From the tower at Ivy City, the sun rises this way," she explained. "We go this way, then, to get there."

She went off, Froakie walking by her side. Torchic followed, not glancing at Charmander as she went. Piplup followed her and Charmander took up the back with him. When he did, the Water Nation trainee nodded towards the front. "He likes her," he said. "That's pretty obvious, though, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Charmander said, looking worriedly at the two that were leading them.

"I'm not worried yet," Piplup said. "I get it. They're grieving."

Charmander nodded, but his head was still whirling with possibility. It was bad enough that they were a roving band from many Nations, but to have a Water Nation trainee and a Grass Nation trainee in a relationship…that would be their downfall should either of them be caught. Thinking of that, what would happen if a violent group of Grass Nation Pokémon _did_ decide to get in their way? They couldn't exactly kill them, as they would most likely be executed by the Council themselves if they did. And of that, what about Ivy City? What about the Rock Nation that had been fighting with Grass when Chikorita first arrived at Aquarius? What if Feraligatr really _was_ trailing them?

Charmander shook his head. He was worried, and he knew it was alright to be in these trying times. But he couldn't do anything about it now. Now all he could do was follow, and hope that they would reach Ivy City, and that both them and the city would be in once piece when they got there.


	42. Tepig VI

**Tepig**

"Go away."

"Oh, come on, Tepig! You need _something_ to cheer you up!"

Tepig turned over in the bed, facing the doorway. Quilava stood there, looking at him expectantly yet warily. He'd gotten word of what had happened between Tepig and Fennekin from Fennekin herself, and Tepig was seething because of it. He had woken up fairly early that morning, thinking that maybe there was a way he could at least patch up his friendship with her. But it was obvious now that wasn't going to happen. Not if Quilava and Arceus knew how many more Pokémon knew about their breaking up.

Tepig understood Quilava was just trying to help him, but how couldn't he see how much visiting Monferno would hurt him? Couldn't he just understand he didn't want to see Quilava lying on top of him, kissing him gently and making Tepig yearn for something just as strong? No, of course he couldn't. But couldn't he at least understand what that kind of situation would make Tepig think about?

"Screw," Tepig said.

Quilava frowned. "Tepig, come on. You need someone after this."

"I don't need anyone," Tepig said. "What I need is to sit here and wait until I fall asleep again."

"Well you can't do that forever."

"Watch me."

Tepig turned over, staring directly at the windows, looking at the small amount of sunlight that was sneaking through the curtain. It was barely enough to illuminate the room, something Tepig was completely okay with. As long as there was darkness, everything was okay. He closed his eyes, hoping Quilava would just go away. After a moment he heard his door close shut. He listened to see if Quilava would come back in, maybe try and startle him out of bed and using that as an excuse to drag him to Monferno. But there was no sound. Sighing, Tepig let his mind go, thinking of nothing.

Then, without warning, sunlight blinded him. He sat up in bed, squinting his eyes until they were almost closed. He looked out at the room and saw Quilava standing by the window, the curtain in his jaws. He let go and it wavered a bit, almost as though it were trying to pull itself back over the sunlight so Tepig wouldn't have to see its wretched glare. A glare is what he delivered to Quilava though, feeling hate rise up in him for the Pokémon that had interrupted what would have been a fine day dwelling in the dark.

"Tepig, you can't stay here forever," Quilava pleaded. "Please! Monferno and I are worried! When…when Fennekin told us what happened, she was really upset. And she said something that made us worry, okay? She said you would have, and, I know, it sounds crazy…but did you tell her you would have…married her?"

"Yes," Tepig said bluntly.

Quilava looked at him, startled. "What? Then why did you two… _are_ you broken up?"

"Yes, Quilava," he said, feeling as though a needle had pierced his heart. "We did. And I would have only married her for her sake, not mine. She was happy with me but I wasn't happy with her. And before you even ask, yes, I would have given myself up just like that."

Quilava stared at him in shock. "Holy shit," he said. "Wh…why though? If you don't love her, why do all of that just for her?"

"I do love her, just not in that way," Tepig snapped. "She's my friend, but not my love. Arceus, Quilava, can you just leave me alone!?"

Quilava looked down at the floor. "Tepig, please come with me," he said. "Please. Monferno's worried too." Tepig just stared at him. Quilava shrugged. "Fine," he said, settling down on the floor. "But I'm not leaving until you come with me."

Tepig sighed. He could see in Quilava's eyes that he wasn't going to be getting him out of here, at least not anytime soon. Slowly, Tepig got out of the creaking bed. When he settled his feet on the ground he cast another glare at Quilava, whose face lit up like a bonfire. "You've got me," Tepig growled. "Now come on. I'm not wasting any more time than I have to."

"Great!" Quilava said. He suddenly dashed out of the room, opening the door so fast Tepig didn't even see him jump up and turn the knob. Tepig walked out slowly into the light, not wanting it to blind him as the sunlight had. He walked down the halls, just blindly following Quilava as he got farther and farther away. Then, without warning, he was there, standing at the door to Monferno's room, only aware of Quilava standing next to him.

Quilava jumped up and turned the knob. The door to the room began opening slowly. The lights were on, signifying that Monferno was awake. Tepig went in first, butting his way past both Quilava and the door. Monferno was looking at him expectantly, a though he had been expecting him. Probably was, Tepig guessed.

Then his heart skipped a beat. Standing right by Monferno's bed, staring at him in shock, was Fennekin.

Quilava shut the door behind him, making Tepig jump. He turned on him, snorting in anger. "What the hell is this?" he asked.

Quilava backed away. "Look, I just thought that maybe you two should talk it out."

"We did," Fennekin stated firmly. "It's over."

Tepig looked at her, feeling sorrow grip his heart. He didn't want it to be over. The love, yes, of course, but the friendship? No, he still wanted that there, something he and she could have in this time of horror. Yet now wasn't the time, wasn't it? No. It wasn't the time for anything except hate, because that was what they had embraced, unable to look past one another because of the seething hatred she had and the hatred Tepig had. Only it was much different. Tepig's was directed only at himself.

"Tepig told me himself he loves you," Quilava said. "As a friend, sure, but he cares about you, Fennekin. And Tepig. She's heartbroken, can't you see that? Why can't we all just get along instead of trying to tear one another apart?"

Silence. Tepig locked eyes with Fennekin. He saw the rage and the hurt there, mixing and swirling in her face, and it told him it was all over. Every single moment with her, from the time they first met all the way up to that night at the house. It had all been wiped clean from the slate of history, nothing left but a few sprinkles of dust that signified that maybe, just maybe, something had been there.

"This was a mistake," Tepig said, turning toward the door.

"Tepig, I'm sorry," Monferno called from his bed. "We were just trying to help."

"Help?" Tepig growled, turning around, facing the three that were all staring at him. "Help? You think butting in like this, trying to be part of something that doesn't concern you is _helpful_? How deluded are you? Is it because you just want everyone to be happy? So perfect, just like you? That's what this is. Don't even try and deny it. You just want to see Fennekin and I have our perfect little happy ending, where we kiss and make up and everything goes back to normal. But that's not what's going to happen. Here's what's going to happen; I'm gonna leave, and I'm not gonna come back. I'm going to lock myself up and let every single regret consume me. You think I like this? You think I want this, to lose someone, a friend that I would have given myself up for just because she's good and deserves to be happy? I don't want to lose anyone. Not anymore. Not after Charmander and Torchic and Ponyta, not anymore! But look here! Look at all of this! I'm here but at the same time I'm lost! I've lost myself and I can't lose anything else! I can't…just…"

Tepig felt the tears coming but he fought them back. Everyone was looking at him with concern, even Fennekin. He felt his mind whirling. Had he even been talking sense to them? Or was all that just the flow of his mind, everything he held in there bottled up and wanting to come out but unable to because there just weren't words in language to describe what he felt? Oh, he was sinking. He had to escape before he drowned.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, jumping up and turning the doorknob. The door opened slowly. Without another word he wiggled his way out of the room, going down the hall as fast as he could. He heard a squeak behind him, then a voice. "Tepig, wait!"

He turned and looked at Fennekin, feeling all that pain suddenly come back. There were tears standing in her eyes and it made him want to cry too. But he held them back as she spoke, as the words and tears poured from her face. "Tepig, I'm sorry. I didn't know. How could I know? I mean, you just didn't feel that way, I get it, and you just needed comfort but I needed something more, and I guess I just couldn't give you what you wanted-"

"No, it's not that," he said. "I just don't think we can be _us._ "

"I know, I'm just, I'm really sorry."

"You have, no, you don't have anything to be sorry for, Fennekin. I should have been honest with you from the start."

"No, I should have just listened to you and not been so emotional. I just…I didn't want to lose you. I still don't want to lose you, Tepig, but I don't know how to keep you without…without losing myself in what could have been."

Tepig stared at her, and it all seemed to make sense. "You're my best friend," he said. "You're one of the few people in this world that I care about. But I don't care about you in that way, and I should have told you before and I'm sorry. But if…if it's better for you to not see me right now, maybe. Maybe that's okay. You just go and spend some time with Quilava and Monferno and I'll…see you later, I guess."

"What about you?" she asked. "Who are you gonna go to?"

Tepig could feel them right in his eyes and he had to blink rapidly to fight them back. "Fennekin, I-"

"You and I have lost so much," she said. "And yeah, maybe it's better if we just stay away from each other for a little while, but who are you gonna go to?"

"I'll figure it out," Tepig said, turning away. "I'll figure it all out."

Before she could say anything else he was gone, trudging down the hall. He could still hear her faint whimpers as she too departed from that little spot in the hallway where it had all come together and fallen apart at the same time, and when he couldn't hear her anymore he felt the tears come creeping in, sliding down his face as he grieved for what was lost.

"They're all _dead_?"

Tepig sniffed back his sorrow when he heard Senator Typhlosion's voice coming from nearby. Startled, Tepig realized he'd completely bypassed his room in the hospital and was now standing in front of Charizard and Blaziken's room. Then he heard Moltres through the door; "Every one of them. Aquarius is gone."

Tepig's heart thundered. Aquarius? Wasn't that the Water Nation Capital? What did Moltres mean they were all dead?

"When I got there," Moltres explained, "I had to fight off a few Gabite. I got one of them to talk. And no, I didn't hurt him. He told me that he heard in passing from Senator Garchomp himself that Senator Feraligatr along with Kabutops the Brave had orchestrated the attack."

"What?" Charizard shouted. "No, this is absurd!"

"It's what the soldier told me. Just before he killed himself."

"What?" Blaziken asked. "Why would he kill himself?"

"He was part of a Special Operations unit," Moltres explained. "The way he talked about it, it seemed to be separate from the Ground Nation. He said if Garchomp ever found out about the information he gave me, he would be putting his whole family at risk. He also told me he _would_ find out. That he had eyes everywhere."

"What could this mean?" Typhlosion asked. There was silence. Then; "What?"

"Did he say anything else?" Blaziken asked. "Anything at all?"

Silence, and Tepig could almost see Moltres contemplating, trying to think back to that morning. "Yes," he said. "Something about reaping."

"And any sign of the kids?" Charizard asked quickly. The panic in his voice made Tepig feel as though he were trying to deflect Moltres from what he'd just said. Reaping. What could that mean?

"No, nothing with the kids," Moltres said. "They are in Arceus' grasp now."

"You need to let us search for them!" Blaziken burst out. "Please! I'd never be able to forgive myself if they died and we could have gone to look for them!"

"No!" Typhlosion said. "We need you to rest. We can send you out after that."

"There won't be _time_ after that!" Charizard sternly shouted. "We need to look for them now! With what's happened at Aquarius, they could be in more danger than any of us realize!"

Tepig felt his stomach sink. He slunk away from the door as arguing voices continued behind it. Charmander and Torchic were out there, and now the Water Nation capital was gone. Something wasn't right. Ground Nation and Water Nation, working together, but the Water Nation not fully in compliance. Feraligatr. Garchomp. They were allied, but for what cause. Reaping, probably. But what was reaping?

Tepig stopped in front of his door, feeling weak in the legs. What had Blaziken said, what had he overheard as he and Fennekin were leaving their room just a few days ago?

 _"That's what he said. Admitted it right in front of everyone. He said, 'For the Reapers.'"_

For the Reapers.

The Reapers. A group, something involving multiple Nations. Something sinister. The name alone was enough to give Tepig chills and he could almost hear the paranoid itch in the back of his mind that told him the Fire Nation was at risk. But if Charizard and Blaziken knew what the Reapers were, why wouldn't they tell Typhlosion and Moltres.

 _Because they could be anyone_ , Tepig realized. _And Charizard and Blaziken can't risk alerting the Reapers they know about them. Or worse; what if Charizard and Blaziken_ are _Reapers?_

He needed to find Charmander and Torchic. Something told him this wasn't just some little group, some small threat the a few Nations. This was much bigger than that, almost to the point of conspiracy. Almost? Hell, it _was_ conspiracy. And no one would be safe.

Charmander and Torchic could still be out there, caught in this web. But could he go to find them alone? It wasn't a good idea, not now. Not when their fates were so uncertain and Fennekin was still angry at him and the Senators were going to go when they were healed and when it could catch him up in a conspiracy too big for him to be thrust into right now.

He resolved then in his doorway that he would not go. Not yet.


	43. Piplup IX

**Piplup**

This night was not as dark as the last one, though it was still a painful way to be.

Piplup didn't even know what that meant as he looked up at the sky. The moon was shining down, bright and ever-glowing, a symbol of a fresh start. But what kind of a start was it when everything had been taken away?

The day had been graced with little talking and Piplup was glad for that. After everything that had happened, after all they had been through, it was nice to finally get some quiet. But even that held its horrors. All day his mind had been wandering back to his father. He hadn't seen his body when they'd been escaping Aquarius, and that gave him a bit of hope. But much of that hope was destroyed when thinking of the others. All of them, even Slowpoke.

That ate at him the most. Slowpoke had been there, swift and glaring, and she had jumped right in front of them meaning to kill. He had done it, just killed her right there, no mercy for someone that had once been his sister-in-arms, no matter how little he enjoyed her company. And now it was dead, just like her, just like all of them. She was gone. They were gone. Everything he'd thought, every assumption he'd had about the way the world worked and how his life would go, all of it was gone, blown away in the wind.

They found berries as they walked. Glowing and red, shining on the bushes, they were there, tempting. And so they picked some and ate them in silence, a silence that everyone seemed to hate but no one seemed to mind. No one broke it except Charmander when, after they had finished eating, he stood up and said, "Alright. It's time we got going again."

The silence was only broken once again by Chikorita. She stopped in the brush and raised her head, looking around. Piplup did as well, wondering what she was seeing. Everything still looked the same. There were trees everywhere, stretching up into the sky as though they were trying to pull themselves out of their earthen existences. Piplup couldn't blame them. He'd do the same if he were a tree. Then Chikorita turned around and he looked at her. Her eyes were glowing with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. "We're here," she said. "Grass Nation. There's a town only a few hours from here. We can send word there."

Piplup didn't say anything because he didn't want to squash the hope of everyone else, but he was wary of Chikorita's contact. She'd already said before that she knew a medic stationed in a town that could send word to Ivy City of their coming. But could they be trusted? Piplup didn't know, and he was nervous. But he also understood that it was their only option. If they went into Ivy City unannounced, they could be imprisoned. Chikorita may even be labeled a traitor, and despite their different backgrounds, Piplup wasn't about to let her get dragged down with the rest of them.

But even still, he worried the medic wouldn't pull through, that they'd go back on their promise of sending a message. Or worse, they may not even help them at all. Then there was Chikorita herself. As they walked all day and an hour or so into the night, she stayed close to Froakie's side. The two of them were practically inseparable. Seeing them, Piplup thought back to when he'd first met Charmander and Torchic, of when his father, injured, had driven into Aquarius with the three trainees in the back. He thought about what he'd realized, seeing Torchic lean against her companion like that; that there was an inevitable spark there, one he was sure would ultimately grow. He saw the same thing, looking at Chikorita lead them deeper into the Grass Nation, Froakie by her side at all times, nearly touching her. And it scared her.

He'd told Charmander he thought they were just grieving as they'd left their campsite of the night before, but he wondered if it was really as simple as that. Nothing was simple, he realized, and some of that had to do with seeing the way Charmander and Torchic conducted themselves. Torchic looked like a broken shell, her eyes dead. If she had lain on the ground, Piplup would have guessed her as a corpse. She wouldn't even look at Charmander, or any of them for that matter, let alone respond to the two pieces of dialogue that went through the day. Charmander, meanwhile, stayed in the back the whole time with Piplup, looking worriedly at Torchic, almost never taking his eyes off her. Piplup knew that feeling of worry would consume him, but he hoped it didn't do anything more than that.

There he went again, not making any sense. And now here he was, in the dark, lying in the tall grass and looking up at the moon. They'd come across the field a little ways into the night. Here they'd stopped and decided to rest. Chikorita told them it would be best to wait until day to go to the medic, as the Council was more apt to listen to a message in the day than in the middle of the night. Piplup still didn't know how they were going to get the message to them without hologram callers or a radio. He assumed at first that maybe they _did_ have a radio there, but then stomped out the idea when he realized how indirect Chikorita had been with how the Grass Nation communicated. Whatever it was, it wasn't practical.

But it didn't matter. The moon was shining and everyone was asleep. Well, he assumed as much. He couldn't hear any sniffling, nor could he hear anyone talking. He could only hear his own labored breathing in his ears. He thought that he could stay there forever, watching the moon watch him, assuming himself the only living thing in the world, breathing slowly and shallowly. It was a joyful, harmonious type of feeling he'd never felt before, and it made him feel better than he ever had. It gave him hope.

He heard a little rustle to his side, someone shifting in their sleep. He didn't let it bother him, though. He just stared up at the sky, looking at the moon looking down on him. It wasn't something he would forget, he realized, because it was something he would never do again. He would never be back in the Grass Nation, never back to this view. Soon the peace would end and he would have to move on.

"Did you hear that?"

Charmander's voice whispered over to him. He turned away from the moon, sighing, wishing his time with it hadn't been ended so swiftly. Charmander was looking through the blades of grass at him, his eyes wide. Piplup glanced to his left and saw Torchic sitting there too, her eyes wide as well. Apparently Charmander had finally managed to break her spell.

The rustle. It came again, this time a bit closer, right behind Charmander and Torchic. The two of them glanced back. "Are you sure it isn't Chikorita and Froakie?" Piplup asked.

"No," came a voice from behind. Piplup turned to his right, and there they were. He loathed the fact that Froakie was holding her tightly against him, but he didn't say anything for fear of starting an argument when their lives might possibly be in danger. He just looked back and stayed quiet, hoping that it was just the wind. Of course that was a stupid thing to hope, considering there was no wind.

It came again, this time from behind him. Piplup turned and was now on his stomach. He heard shifting behind him and looked back to see everyone had copied him and were low to the ground, their bellies against the grass. Piplup swung his head forward and saw the shadow creeping towards them. For a moment his heart started to race with fear. Then that fear was replaced with anger. He jumped forward, his body making no noise as the grass parted for him. His flipper glowed with silver beneath the moonlight, completely involuntary, almost second nature. Then it came down hard on the Gabite, splitting a large wound in its head. Droplets of blood flecked his face as he fell with the body that noisily crashed to the ground.

He stayed silent for a moment, listening for anything else. The grass was too tall to see over, so he had to rely on the little luck he knew he'd have of seeing the shadows as they passed. The rustling also helped to locate them, but it didn't help him personally. He heard something to his left and to his right, both of them swiftly gaining on him. He heard something behind him too, and he swung his head around when he heard nearby grass part. It was Charmander, who was also listening for the figures they couldn't see.

"You take the one on the right," Piplup said. "I'll go left."

Charmander nodded. Piplup turned, standing firmly on the body, his feet getting wet with its blood. It was gaining, coming ever closer, both sides now. Charmander's feet were planted firmly on the ground. He was getting ready to launch himself at the attacker, ready, ready, they approached, coming up quick, louder and louder.

Piplup felt the air get knocked out of him as he was bowled over from the side. Left and right converged, their jaws and claws aimed at Charmander who jumped at the one on the right but would be helpless to the one on the left. Piplup had his own problems, though, that being the one that was currently on top of him, gnashing its teeth in his face. He swung his flipper as powerfully as he could, almost blinding himself with the shine of silver. The Gabite reared back, a long wound across its face. This gave Piplup his opening. He shot water at it and it fell to the ground. Quickly, he slashed at its neck, opening up a wound that became a river on the ground.

He looked up and saw Charmander taking down the one he'd jumped at quickly. He had a scratch on his arm, but other than that he looked fine. Then the second passed, and then he was bleeding.

It was a small pain at first, but as the Gabite that had come from the left pulled out, the small hole in his belly welled with blood, cramped up, and burned. Piplup couldn't help falling to the ground. He saw a small shadow jump over him just in time, and was thankful to see Torchic dig her claws into the Gabite's eyes. It screamed and tried to throw her off, but was too late. Charmander came up from behind and bit into the back of its neck. Fire rose from his throat, a flame leaping from his jaws. Piplup smiled a bit as the world started to darken and the Gabite fell.

Everyone was around him now, swimming. He looked down to see a trickle of blood. He sighed, feeling a small smile come to his beak. So, this was how it was going to end? He sighed. There were worse ways to die, he guessed.

He looked up at the moon, at its inviting glow. It was calling to him, telling him everything was going to be alright so long as he just kept looking. It was getting closer and closer, closing in on him, wiping away the river of blood that was coursing out of his stomach. He heard something near, felt something, but he didn't pay any attention. He was being lifted to the moon, very slowly, ever so slightly…

Then he was being carried across the field. He heard Chikorita shout something, something about outskirts, but he didn't quite catch it. He just looked on at the moon, breathing steadily, watching it gain.

Then he was looking at nothing at all.


	44. Froakie III

**Froakie**

"Come on!" Chikorita shouted ahead of them. "He's staying in the outskirts of Oakenville!"

For a moment Froakie had no idea who she was talking about. All he could focus on was Piplup, his bleeding body sagging as he and Charmander swung it about as they ran. His chest was covered in blood, blood that was still oozing from the hole in his stomach. It looked deep, and based on how much it was leaking Froakie could only imagine how vital the innards the Gabite had hit were.

Then he remembered what they were doing there in the first place. The medic. The one that Chikorita said would be able to contact Ivy City before their arrival. The one who might be able to save Piplup's life. A part of him thought of how Piplup would feel about that, having to owe his life to a Grass Nation medic. He thought maybe his nationalism and prejudice was winding down, but he didn't know for sure. They'd traveled with Fire and Grass, but that didn't mean Piplup was fully on board with trusting them all.

But there wasn't time to think about Piplup's reaction, whether it was reasonable to think it would happen that way or not. All Froakie could think about what whether or not he was going to live. He kept looking up at Chikorita, hoping to feel the hopeful warmth he'd felt that first night when they'd slept in the same bed as one another. But that felt like eons ago, and that warmth was only in memory and certainly wasn't helping. He didn't think that was the point of their relationship. He didn't think it was just about comfort, mainly because it wasn't really comforting him. It was something more. Something…

 _Arceus, what the_ hell _am I_ thinking! he thought. Here he was, half-dragging, half-carrying his friend through tall grass, just able to make out Chikorita's shape nearby, and all he could think about was her. It was clouding his mind, this need for her to be by his side. It was almost desperation and almost love, but it didn't feel like either. Then again he'd never felt love, so maybe that was what this was.

Piplup. He had to focus on Piplup. His friend. His brother. A brother he would do anything for and protect with his life. He knew Piplup would do the same for him, but that wasn't the point. The point was their bond, the strength of it, and how Froakie understood there was nothing he was willing to do to break it. In those horrible moments as he carried the body of his dying brother he understood he would be willing to give up Chikorita for him. He came first always.

At last, they broke through the tall grass and into a moonlit clearing. The grass was much shorter, and for that Froakie was thankful. He glanced around, searching, trying to see if perhaps there was something, a house, anything that would house Chikorita's medic. At last his eyes rested on a wooden, cabin-like structure. It looked rotten in the darkness, as though the black of the night was slowly eating away at the wood. Or perhaps it was merely Froakie's imagination.

"Come on!" Chikorita urged. Then, at the top of her lungs, she shouted, " _Ivysaur!_ "

They ran forward another ten paces before the door suddenly flung open on squeaky, flimsy hinges. In the doorway stood a Pokémon on all fours, its blue body splattered with triangles and squares of dark blue. On its back were ferns that surrounded a large, pink rose. Its red eyes widened when it saw Chikorita. "Well I'll be damned," he said.

"Ivysaur, you have to help us!" Chikorita begged as she rushed to the door. "Please, he's bleeding out!"

Ivysaur looked behind her and seemed to lock eyes with Froakie. Froakie kept his gaze on him as he and Charmander carried Piplup closer to the cabin. Ivysaur's eyes fell on Piplup, then widened. "Holy shit," he said. "Chikorita, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?"

"No time to explain!" she shouted. "Will you help him?"

Ivysaur stared at Piplup for a few more seconds. Froakie felt his heart pounding, thinking of what might happen if he turned them away. Ivysaur's gaze swiveled back to Chikorita. "I'll see what I can do," he said, then went inside, Chikorita and Torchic following. After a few more seconds of running, Froakie and Charmander had gotten Piplup into the cabin as well.

Charmander slammed the door behind him with his foot. Ivysaur rushed over to Piplup and bent down. A vine had come out of the rose on his back, and in it was a white, wet cloth. Ivysaur began to wipe away the blood around the wound. As he did, more continued to ooze out. After only ten seconds the cloth was scarlet. Ivysaur peered at the wound as it bled. "It looks fairly deep," he said. "How long ago did this happen?"

"Uh, like, ten minutes ago," Charmander guessed.

Ivysaur nodded. "Okay Fire Nation, I need you for this." He backed away. "Concentrate a little stream of fire into that wound. We've gotta cauterize it, otherwise it's gonna keep bleeding."

Charmander nodded and, without needing to be told a second time, sent a thin line of flame into Piplup's wound. Immediately Piplup sat up and screamed. Froakie jumped forward and held him down. "It's gonna be okay," he promised.

"What is this?" Piplup croaked. "What the hell is going on?"

Ignoring Piplup, Ivysaur turned his attention to Froakie. "You, Water Nation," he snapped. "Your friend here's lost a lot of blood. He's gonna need a transfusion. Now I don't know how blood types work with you guys, but if it works the same as Grass Nation, your blood should be compatible."

Froakie nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I don't know if it'll work either, but…just tell me what I have to do."

Ivysaur nodded. He lumbered away into the back of the cabin, fiddling around with whatever it was he had back there. Froakie heard something fall and Ivysaur curse at the object. At last, after what seemed like hundreds of years, Ivysaur was back with a needle that attached to a tube that, in turn, was attached to a small bag. "Okay, come over here and hold out your non-dominant arm."

Froakie did, stepping over Piplup to do so, Piplup, who was looking around the room wildly. Froakie wished there was more he could say to him, but the others would have to fill him in, depending on how much he remembered.

Froakie held out his left arm. Ivysaur held the needle over him with his vines. "Okay, Water," he said. "I'm gonna let you know right now, this is gonna hurt. Grass Nation has a way of getting all the blood and once, and while it's effective…well, it's gonna hurt like a bitch is what I'm saying. You okay with that?"

"Anything for him," Froakie said.

Ivysaur rolled his eyes. "As if you two being Water Nation wasn't bad enough." Before Froakie could refute anything, Ivysaur plunged the needle into his arm.

All at once Froakie felt a large, painful sucking against his arm. He stifled a scream, but that lasted only a moment. Tears involuntarily rolled down his face as all of his blood began to churn, a swirling concentrated directly in his arm, taking him into some kind of fold and making him its slave. He didn't even know how think anymore. The pain was too overwhelming for thought. A hard pinch, a slash, a stab, a jab, a shot, bone-shattering, he could feel everything, all pain imaginable, all at once, consuming him, taking him…he'd already thought that but it was the only thing he could do all he could do was repeat himself in himself and then it was

Over.

Then it was over.

Froakie slouched down, holding his arm that was as useless as a noodle now. He sniffed back any more tears. Ivysaur leaned down, getting into Froakie's face. He smiled. "Told you it would hurt, didn't I?" he asked.

Froakie laughed a bit. "Yeah," he said. "But I'd do anything to save him. He's my brother."

Ivysaur looked between him and Piplup. "You don't look related," he joked.

"Just shut up and save his life," Froakie said.

Ivysaur stared down at the weak, sweating Water Nation trainee that was before him. Froakie looked up and glared at him, feeling all of the laughter that was in his voice suddenly dissipate at the knowledge that Ivysaur wasn't doing anything to help them. " _Please_ ," he said, annoyed.

Ivysaur shrugged. "I will," he said. He walked over to Piplup, who was now looking at him calmly. "Brace yourself," the Grass Nation medic said. "If you think you're hurting now… _oh boy_."

Ivysaur broke Piplup's skin with the needle. Then, all at once, the bag of blood was gone. Piplup writhed in pain for a few moments, screaming at the top of his lungs. Froakie watched, shocked, as Ivysaur kept the needle in him for a little while longer. Then he yanked it out. A bit of blood welled and trickled down Piplup's arm, causing Froakie to realize his own arm had spurted blood upon the needle's removal as well. He felt shocked. All of that pain he'd felt, all of that horrible sucking and stabbing and crunching had all happened in only a few moments. What the hell kind of a trick was this?

"How did you do that?" Froakie asked. "Get the blood in so fast, I mean?"

Ivysaur scoffed. "What the hell makes you think I'll tell Water Nation anything about what the Grass Nation does? What do you take me for, a moron? Speaking of which," he said, swiveling around the Chikorita, a glare in his eyes that made Froakie wish he had the strength the punch him in the face, "You."

There was silence for a moment as Chikorita and Ivysaur stared at one another, her jittering at bit under his vile gaze. "Chikorita," he said. "Where have you been and what the _hell_ is going on?"


	45. Chikorita VIII

**Chikorita**

For a moment Chikorita wasn't sure what to say. She stood there, still as a statue, feeling the color drain from her face under Ivysaur's glare. It wasn't like they'd been close friends prior to the battle that had cost her family's lives, but still, to see him like that, so angry…she didn't know. It was just odd in a way to be greeted by another member of the Grass Nation like that after having vanished for so long.

Then she remembered Ivysaur hadn't had a few days to get used to the company of members of other Nations, and the realization that he'd marked her a traitor in his mind made paranoia spring to her mind. Ivysaur could easily turn them down, she realized, if he wasn't convinced what they were doing was important. But the only way to convince him would be the reveal what happened in the Water Nation, thereby weakening the Nation to a possible Grass Nation attack (assuming they still weren't dealing with the Rock Nation).

What was she thinking? She understood that something within her had changed. Her loyalty had shifted within these few short days, and she understood now what it was. It was Froakie. It was all of them, Fire and Water Nation alike, but it was Froakie that motivated her sudden shift in mindset the most. Froakie, who was there for her whenever she needed him; Froakie, who would always stay by her side, no matter what hardships were thrown their way and no matter how difficult it would be for them not to be drifted asunder.

Arceus, why did she have to fall in love with him, and so quickly?

"Staying quiet isn't gonna help you," Ivysaur warned, jolting Chikorita back to reality. "If anything it's just making me more suspicious of what you're doing with _them_." Ivysaur glanced around the room, still wearing his glare.

At this, Charmander stepped forward. "We'll tell you everything," he began.

"Not you!" he barked. "I don't wanna hear anything from members of other Nations." He turned his attention back to Chikorita, watching her in silence. She sighed, gathered up all the energy she could, then began:

"I was separated during the battle," she explained. "I remember seeing so many die-"

"Yeah," Ivysaur said. "I bet you do."

At first Chikorita was confused by Ivysaur's tone, believing its anger to stem from her bringing outsiders into the Grass Nation. Then it dawned on her, and she felt guilt suddenly weighing on her heart. "Ivysaur," she breathed. "Ivysaur, I'm so sorry. I didn't…he saved my life."

Ivysaur looked away. "I know," he said. "Just…just keep going."

Chikorita nodded, carefully leaving out the Wardens as she told her tale. "I ended up getting to the Water Nation. I found safety there. But something happened, at Aquarius, and we had to leave. Then, just now, we were attacked by Gabite. That's why Piplup's in such brutal shape."

Ivysaur looked over at Piplup in shock. Piplup nodded, grave and stern. "Yeah," he said. "It's true."

"Their bodies are probably a quarter mile or so from here," Torchic commented.

"Gabite?" Ivysaur said. "In the Grass Nation?" He shook his head. "The Council's gonna wanna hear about this, then. I'll inform them of it when we're done here." Then he looked at Chikorita closer, narrowing his eyes. "And what did you say happened at Aquarius?"

Chikorita looked at Froakie nervously. Froakie sighed. "It's the only way," he agreed.

She looked at Piplup, who nodded. "Yeah," he said, regret obvious on his face. "Just tell him."

Chikorita took in a shaky breath, then let it out. "Something was happening," she explained. "The Water Nation Council was having an event, one that would try and integrate me, Charmander, and Torchic into the Nation more easily. It was sort of a safety precaution. We'd all been promised safe passage home, but not for a little while. But Senator Feraligatr…he turned against his own people."

Ivysaur's eyes widened. "What?" he breathed.

"It's all gone," Piplup said from behind him.

"All?" Ivysaur asked in awe, turning to face his patient.

Piplup nodded in affirmation. "Don't even think about going to attack Water Nation," he said. "Chances are there isn't a Water Nation to attack anymore."

"I-I don't understand," Ivysaur said. "How could Feraligatr…what?"

"Almost every important figure in the Water Nation was in the city that day," Chikorita explained. "He and a bunch of Water Nation soldiers killed them and others, civilians."

"Someone, a friend I guess you could say, tried to kill us," Piplup said. "I had to kill her."

"You killed one of your own?" Ivysaur said. Chikorita felt annoyance at all of his rhetorical questions, but still, she understood. Getting all of this information thrown at him all at once didn't mean he would pick it up and understand the implications right away.

Piplup nodded in response. "Yeah," he said. "And those _bastards_ killed Froakie's father and took mine."

"Took?" Froakie asked quizzically.

"Yeah, took," Piplup said, fire in his eyes. "I'm not arguing about the specifics right now anyway. They hardly matter." But Chikorita could see he was reeling at the possibility that his father was truly dead, and now he was going to have to move on from him so soon after having almost lost him in battle. She pitied him, but she envied him all the same. At least he had that unsureness, that hope that his father was still alive.

"Okay," Ivysaur said. "Okay. Shit. So Water Nation has fallen to a coup of some sort, there are Gabite's in the Grass Nation, and we're still fighting against Rock Nation while trying to fill a senatorial position. Great! Just great! As if Grass Nation didn't have enough problems as is!"

"Don't blame us for this," Charmander said. "Without us you wouldn't even know about all of this."

"I'm not blaming you, asshat," Ivysaur replied. "I'm just saying, Grass Nation is in a lot of deep shit right now, and Arceus knows anything else is just gonna break us." He shook his head. "Why am I even telling Pokémon from other Nations all of this?"

"Okay, Ivysaur," Chikorita interrupted, trying to divert the subject. "We've told you everything that happened to us. Can you please contact the Council and let them know we're going to be at Ivy City soon?"

Ivysaur nodded, though he still had a distracted look in his eyes. "Yeah, sure," he said, almost brushing her off as he spoke. She felt annoyance once more, this time at his distractedness, but still, she knew he was still absorbing everything they'd told him. It wasn't going to be easy. But it sure as hell would be a lot easier than having lived through it. Chikorita could still see Greninja's throat spilling red as he fell from the stage. She glanced at Froakie, glad to have him to comfort and glad he was willing to comfort her.

Ivysaur lumbered out of the room, his eyes giving away that he was still deep in thought. He went to another room where he continued to rummage around. From the sound of it, Chikorita guessed he was still just as disorganized as he's been when he was a Bulbasaur. She could still remember hearing his father yelling at him to clean his room because it looked like a dumpster. She almost giggled, then, remembering his whiny, pouty face every time she glanced at him, knowing it was because of his father constantly pestering him about his cleaning habits. Bayleef had been over his house many times, and she could attest to the fact that, yes, that was why he always looked so grumpy.

Oh no.

And it came to her, so quickly and so heavily, just how much Ivysaur was suffering. How she'd been so blind to it was beyond her comprehension, but upon realizing just how little she knew, it hurt her. She understood then just how much she'd hurt him, but there wasn't time because he had the radio and was holding the speaker to his mouth using his vines, changing the frequency so he could get in contact with the Grass Nation.

"This is it?" she heard Piplup say. She turned and saw him looking at her, unamused. " _This_ is the big oh-so-secret way the Grass Nation communicates with one another? A radio? You do realize every other Nation communicates with a radio, right?"

Ivysaur looked up. "This one's solar powered," he said simply.

Piplup stared for a few moments, the silence only penetrated by the static coming from the radio as Ivysaur began to fiddle around with it. Piplup laid back, quiet, until he finally said; "What the hell are we in for?"

Then the static calmed, and Chikorita felt her heart jump to her throat. This was it, the moment she didn't know she had been dreading but nonetheless was dreading all the same. She had no idea what voice was going to answer Ivysaur's call, nor did she know whether or not they were going to believe him. What would _he_ say? Would he inform them of the outsiders she had brought in? Suddenly she could see it, Piplup's initial nerves of the Grass Nation turning against her, but this time on a larger scale, not just some criminal in the slums of poor villages. Torterra and Shaymin, arguably the most hardened warriors of the Nation, could turn her away easily. She had no doubt either of them would. That was how strong their loyalty to their cause was.

"Council Members?" Ivysaur said into the radio, his voice clear and loud. "Council Members, does anyone copy?"

There was silence, the quiet static echoing through the small house. As the seconds dragged on Chikorita tensed, watching the radio with earnest longing, hoping a voice would pick up and assure her. Or perhaps make her worst fears a reality.

A gruff, hard voice, unmistakably that of Senator Torterra, the Grass Nation's Political Strategist, answered. "We copy, Ivysaur. What's your purpose in using this frequency?" The way he spoke, Chikorita could almost see his grave visage in front of her.

Ivysaur answered. "Chikorita's alive," he said. "I've got her here."

Silence. Then, suddenly, Chikorita felt the ground beneath her shift with the force of a thousand rumbling, earthen plates as a familiar voice pierced the silence on the other end of the radio. "She's there? Is she safe? Can I talk to her?"

Chikorita instinctively leapt forward, unable to hold back the tears of joy that had suddenly sprung up in her eyes. "Dad!" she shouted into the radio. "You-you're alive!"

"Chikorita." The joyful, fatherly voice of Meganium responded, and though it felt like a happy dream she knew it was reality. Everything seemed to fade away. All of the hardship of the last few days were lost. All of the blood, the Wardens, Feraligatr's insanity; all of it melted away at hearing her father say her name.

"Thank Arceus you're okay," he continued. "I've been, well, we've _all_ been looking for you everywhere. All around the Grass Nation. We've had people searching far and wide and…oh, Chikorita, I'm so glad you're safe."

"Dad," she whispered through tears. "Dad, I'm so sorry."

"Sorry?" Meganium asked, and she could tell by his cracking voice that he was on the verge of crying. "Sorry for what?"

"For worrying you," she said. She didn't know why she was apologizing, knowing she couldn't be blamed for something that was so out of her control. But at the same time, she couldn't help but think if she had done something different, perhaps things would be better.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he said. "Is everything alright? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said. Then she paused. She looked back at the Pokémon that surrounded her. They looked at her cautiously, as though they were afraid of what she was going to say next. And she realized she was as well. Despite their different Nations, those that surrounded her had grown on her. They were practically brothers and sisters in arms, fighting for the cause that they knew next to nothing about. She understood in that moment the truth; the world was changing. But it wasn't a change she could suddenly thrust into the lives of those that were so used to the normality of separation.

"Dad, before I got to Ivysaur's house, I ran into a few Gabite along the way."

"Gabite?" her father huffed, a bit of panic creeping into his voice. "But the Dragon Nation isn't anywhere close to us! Unless they came from Ground."

"We think they came from Ground," she said.

"We?" her father asked. "Did Ivysaur see them as well?"

Ivysaur leaned in before Chikorita had time to respond. "Negative," he said. "We've got a few others with us, Pokémon from Fire and Water Nation."

Chikorita looked at Ivysaur, dread creeping into her. His expression was businesslike, almost unreadable. The radio was silent long enough for him to explain. "It's best they know," he said. "Plus, you have valuable information to offer them."

"Why the hell would I want a bordering Nation to know mine is on the brink of collapse, assuming it hasn't fallen already?" Piplup said, accusation and anger flaring in his voice.

"Because the way it fell presents a danger to the Grass Nation," Ivysaur explained. "What if something like that were to happen here?"

Chikorita was about to argue when Torterra's booming, furious voice rose from the radio. "What the hell are Pokémon from other Nations doing with you? And in Grass Nation, nonetheless?"

Chikorita responded. "It's a long story, but they have information that may help our Nation."

"And what makes you so sure they're willing to cooperate?" Torterra countered.

"Because otherwise you'll kill them," she said. "And no one wants to die."

Silence. Chikorita's skin prickled with anticipation, and her mind wandered into doubt. Then Meganium was back, the sweet, loving voice of her father; "Come to Ivy City as soon as you can," he advised. "Try to stay hidden; we don't need others in the Nation knowing you're back and getting curious about where you're headed. Ivysaur, is there any way you can spare any food?"

"I've got about three days' worth left with me and I'm getting my next delivery from Maple tomorrow," he said.

"Alright," Meganium said. "That works. The Grass Nation honors you for your servitude. You will make a fine medic one day, son."

"I'm counting on it, sir," he said.

"We'll get there as soon as we can," Chikorita promised.

"We will be waiting for you," Meganium said. "I love you, Chikorita."

"I love you too, dad."

Silence.

Chikorita turned to the rest of the room, feeling a mixture of excitement and sympathy. She knew where her father was, but the rest of the room was made of orphans. Froakie was the first to speak. "I'm glad he's okay," he said.

Chikorita forced the blush from her cheeks. Piplup stared at her, his face forlorn. "Yeah," he agreed.

"We'll find him," Charmander promised.

Torchic said nothing.

"Well," Ivysaur said, something unreadable clouding his eyes once again, "I've had my fair share of a shit-storm tonight, so I'm going to bed. If you all want to camp out here for the night, that's fine with me. But please, for the love of all that is Holy, be gone before noon. The Sunflora that delivers my shit from Maple will be here by then, and I _really_ don't need anyone watching us."

With that, Ivysaur turned to leave. Chikorita, though, was not deterred. She had to tell him. "Ivysaur, wait."

He turned, sighing in annoyance. "Look, it's late, and I've gotta do stuff tomorrow, so whatever it is, can it wait until morning?"

"I'm sorry," she said. And then it all tumbled out, the dammed up emotions suddenly bursting forth and eradicating the doubt. "I'm sorry about Venusaur, and I'm sorry about Bayleef. If I could go back and stop that from happening, I would. But I can't, and I'm sorry. I know how measly it is, that I can only use one word to tell you how much I regret what happened, but that's all I can offer you. I'm…just. Sorry."

Ivysaur looked at her in silence. She looked down, then back up, seeing that he was now looking past her, as though he were seeing something invisible just behind her. Then he said, "Goodnight, Chikorita," turned, padded into his room, and slammed the door behind him.

Chikorita felt a knot tighten in her stomach. By apologizing she'd only made him feel worse, and in turn she felt even more awful about Venusaur's death. She looked at the others, all of them looking at her. Silence, for so long she thought she was going to have to scream to shatter it. Then Charmander spoke. "Alright," he said. "We'll get up as early as we can in the morning."

Piplup nodded in agreement. Froakie wandered to the front door and, jumping up, hit the light switch, bathing the room in darkness. Chikorita wandered over to a corner of the room and crouched, curling herself into a little ball. She breathed deeply, feeling the loneliness of the room encase her. She felt the isolation, believing whole-heartedly in every facet of her mind that she had pushed her friends away without even meaning to, and all because her father had survived.

Then she felt a shape beside her, felt warm arms wrap around her. She felt his body pressed against hers, and she unfurled, slowly rolling over, letting him embrace her. His voice, warm and gentle by her face, made her forget all of the worries she was about to sleep with. "You still have us," he said. "You still have _me._ "

Chikorita rested her head on Froakie's shoulder, holding him, warm against her. They spent the night that way, interlocked in the chamber of darkness, the future impossible to grasp.


	46. Charmander XIII

**Charmander**

Sunlight beamed through the windows. Charmander sat up, his back aching from sleeping on the hard, wooden floor of the cabin. At first he didn't know where he was. The dream he'd been having, the one where he was little again and was back at Furnace with his father, training for the inevitable battle he would one day have to fight in, had felt as though it had been happening for months. Then it all came back to him, a swift blow to his brain. Piplup being attacked; Ivysaur saving his life; the contact they'd made with Ivy City; the revelation that Chikorita's father was still alive.

He could hear his voice, official in its tone, although far from authoritative: _We will be waiting for you._

So many different ways to interpret that sentence. Charmander trusted Chikorita, and he trusted her judgement, but still, that one sentence had put him slightly on edge. They would be waiting for not only the lost daughter of a Grass Nation Senator, but also four foreigners that she had information on. For all Charmander knew, all five of them would be walking into a trap once they reached Ivy City. Torterra seemed on edge about the whole thing, and Charmander couldn't blame him. He also thought that gruff voice would be the first to suggest extracting information from new prisoners that had walked right into their laps.

But what other choice did they have? Aquarius (and for all they knew all of the Water Nation) was gone; Furnace's fate was still up in the air; Gabite seemed to be either hunting them or threatening Grass Nation with an attack. The thought of the Ground Nation making an alliance with Rock Nation and taking Grass out dawned on Charmander then, but he pushed it away quickly. It was too scary to think about, the possibility that the Ground Nation was strategizing like that, allying themselves with other Nations under the guise of a joint attack, then turning on them to take as much land as they could. That thought branched off to another; was Water Nation the first time the Ground Nation had done anything like that?

No. He couldn't think about this, not now. Not when it was all so much, when he and Torchic's parents were dead, when they'd just seen respectful and friendly Pokémon, friends of their friends, brutally murdered by a psychopath that was standing on a stage talking about, what, something about cleansing the world? It was too awful to think about the possibilities of how all of it was connected. _Was_ it connected? Then, it was there, the truth. A possible explanation to all of it.

He kept the thought in his head as Piplup sighed and sat up. He squinted at the sun, then looked over at Charmander, his eyes sleepy. He rubbed his back, feeling the same effects of the floor as Charmander had felt. "Morning," he said.

"Morning," Charmander replied. He watched as Piplup's eyes darted past him for a moment. Charmander turned, wincing as he saw Froakie and Chikorita curled up, Froakie's arms wrapped around her. She was smiling like a baby coddled in a blanket. Charmander felt a pit of worry in his stomach. "Oh," he said, not really knowing how to respond to Piplup's glance.

"Yeah," Piplup agreed. "Oh."

"I have a theory," Charmander said. "If, that is, you're not still half-asleep and want to hear it."

"Nah, I'm fine," Piplup said. "My chest still stings like a bitch though."

"Sorry about that," Charmander said, remembering the fire he'd had to use to cauterize Piplup's wound.

Piplup shrugged. "Hey, could be worse," he said. "I could be dead." Charmander didn't see any humor in his eyes. If anything, Charmander saw something on his face, if only for an instant. Something that told him death may have been okay with his friend. But then it was gone, and Charmander wondered only for a second before jumping into his explanation if Piplup envied the dead.

"You remember the Gabite last night?"

Piplup raised an eyebrow and smirked. "No," he said sarcastically. "I forgot. Not like one almost gutted me or anything."

Charmander pressed on. "Okay, so that Gabite was most likely from the Ground Nation, given that between Dragon and Ground, Grass Nation is geographically closer to Ground. Ivysaur said that, at least. Ground Nation also allied themselves with your Nation, and attacked mine, which is close to theirs."

"I see what you're saying," Piplup said. "Mind if I take a stab at it?"

"Stab at what?"

Charmander turned to see Torchic looking at them with wide, curious eyes. The feathers at the side of her head were ruffled and sticking up. The sun cascading through the windows illuminated her, making her body glow with warmth. Charmander stared at her for a moment, feeling almost awe-struck but unsure why. Then he replied to her question. "I think I know what's been going on these past few days. Why the Ground Nation allied themselves with Water Nation and attacked Furnace."

"Sounds a bit heavy for a morning discussion." Froakie's voice. Charmander turned and saw he was awake, sitting up. Chikorita was awake as well, and was curled up, watching Charmander. Their eyes met, and Chikorita looked down for only a moment before she looked back up at him. Guilt and embarrassment was in them, though the rest of her face hid those emotions well. Charmander wondered if Piplup had caught them peaking from her eyes, and had no doubt in his mind that he had.

"Alright, let me start over," Charmander said. "The Gabite that attacked us last night, geographically, had to have come from Ground Nation. They're the closest, and they've been doing a lot since a few days ago, so it makes sense as to why they'd continue this…this conquest that they're on."

"I know where he's going," Piplup said. "The Ground Nation is allying themselves with other Nations in order to take control of as much land as possible. They start battling, and then before you know it, the Ground Nation's taken everyone by surprise and starts to drive off their former allies and attack the opposing Nation themselves. Or something like that. Right?"

"Yeah," Charmander said. "I think that's one of their strategies. But there's something else. Feraligatr. He was a traitor to his Nation. He decimated the entire Water Nation in a single night. But why?"

Suddenly, Piplup's eyes widened. "Holy shit," he whispered.

"What is it?" Froakie asked.

"Do you remember the battle for the Desert? When I shouted that the whole thing was ridiculous?"

"Yeah," Froakie nodded. "Feraligatr took you into his tent, had a talk with you about something. You never said what that was about."

"He told me the whole plan. That the Water Nation was going to turn on the Ground Nation in the middle of the battle and weaken them, maybe take out Garchomp himself. And he said…he said he was the one who pitched the false alliance to the Council in the first place."

Charmander felt his heart leap as the room went silent. Everyone's eyes bulged around him, and Charmander knew even his were wide. "Holy shit is right," Torchic breathed. "So…so Feraligatr's betrayal, that had something to do with that. He must have talked it over with Garchomp, or Garchomp talked it over with him, and they shook on it."

"Yeah," Charmander agreed. "I scratch your back you scratch mine. The Ground Nation gets to expand, Feraligatr gets, what? His own section of the kingdom Garchomp wants to build?"

"Something like that, maybe," Piplup agreed. "But there's a hole in this. Something we still don't know anything about."

"What?" Froakie asked.

"All that stuff Feraligatr was saying onstage," Piplup said. "It was easy to forget in the heat of everything, but now it's all coming back to me. All that stuff about purging the world of the impure or whatever he said. About worshipping the right ruler. What was that all about?"

"Garchomp," Chikorita said. "From what he said, he's not the puppet master here. Someone higher up is pulling the strings. Garchomp. It's the Ground Nation that's been expanding and so far we've seen him as the ringleader in this whole thing. I mean, who else probably commands the Gabite troops?"

"So, what, Garchomp wants to make himself a God or something?" Torchic asked.

"Yes," Charmander said, the whole ordeal dawning on him. "Yes! It's him, not Ground Nation. Like Chikorita said, he's the one that's been at the head of it all. He wants a kingdom all to himself. He wants to rule everything and everyone, through whatever means necessary. For all we know, Feraligatr is just a pawn in his game, a power-hungry Senator that he'll kill the minute he finally has everyone worshipping him. Same with his own fellow Council Members; Garchomp can't rule a kingdom all alone if he's still got them."

"So what do we do about it?" Froakie asked. "I mean, we can't just let this happen. We've lost things because of this. Four of us have no home to go back to now. Garchomp's pretty much already taken one Nation and the plan hasn't even been in effect for a week! How many more is he going to take? And how fast?"

"Grass and Rock are his next targets," Piplup said. "The Gabite last night prove that. We've got to be on alert and we have to tell the Grass Nation Council about this right when we get there. This isn't a problem for just one of our Nations; this is something that threatens all of us."

Charmander nodded. The times were changing, and now it was clear just what kind of threats awaited them in the future. There may only be one option, Charmander thought, one that none of the Nations would be keen on accepting; the Nations may need to join together in order to stop Garchomp from expanding across the world. Charmander shivered at the prospect. How many Nations would actually be up for an alliance with those that had been their enemies for as long back as anyone could remember? How many would be willing to lay down their arms and their cause for the purpose of defeating someone that was doing just what all the Nations were attempting to do, only on a broader and more threatening scale? Thinking about it like that, thinking about Garchomp as someone that was just utilizing his ideas in order to make his kingdom a reality almost melted away any prospect of true, strong international alliances right there. All there was now when it came to stopping such a large-scale, Nation-destroying plan, was the hope that the Grass Nation Council would listen to what they said, and perhaps act on it.

Before the discussion could be taken any further, Ivysaur's door opened. Dark circles were under his eyes, and their reddish appearance made his lack of sleep clear. In his vines were five backpacks, a lucky enough number for the five group members he silently handed them to. First Chikorita, then Froakie. He made his way to Charmander, and Charmander nodded his thanks. The tired medic in training didn't say anything. He merely continued to hand the packs out, one to Piplup, then one to Torchic.

When he was done, he stood apart from the group, backing into his room, most likely to catch up on the sleep he'd missed the night before. He observed them solemnly for a few silent seconds, and in those seconds Charmander felt his heart leap. Had Ivysaur heard their discussions? Did he too now know of the suspected conquest Garchomp was about to subject the world to, one that would change the way Nations were run and land was captured for the rest of time?

If he did, he made no mention of it. He looked at them all, surveying them as though from a higher perch, a higher position of power. In a sense he was; what he'd given them would keep them alive for the next three days, hopefully long enough to make it to Ivy City without having to forage for food in outlying towns. But there was something else there, a depth to his eyes that Charmander couldn't read, a sternness that wasn't truly stern, almost…

Loss.

"I've given you enough food to last you three days," he said. "Five days, if you ration it to one bag per day. But honestly, I don't care whether or not it lasts you a week or the next hour. But before the sun is in the center of the sky, I want all of you gone. When I next come out of this room, you will be gone."

Ivysaur didn't wait for a response from anyone. He turned and waddled back into his room, using his vines to slam the door behind him. Charmander looked over at Chikorita, and could see a sadness in her eyes. He already knew from her conversation with him the previous night what was going through her head. The guilt was tantamount to the sadness in her futile gaze. She wanted to knock that door down and apologize for things that weren't in her control, but from what he'd seen last night, Charmander doubted Ivysaur would be able to forgive her easily.

Charmander shouldered the pack, feeling the weight of it. It didn't weigh much, and Charmander thought that perhaps it was a lucky break for Ivysaur that he had five bags lying around. He would be able to give one to each of them, fill it with only part of the food supply, make it seem larger than it was. What was the point of it? Who knew. Some kind of odd revenge, a way to get his frustration out. It didn't make sense, but perhaps to the broken mind in Ivysaur's head it did.

Piplup was the first to stand. He looked out over the group, catching Charmander's eyes first. "Well," he said. "I sure as hell don't wanna start stealing food from anyone and putting my well-being in more risk than it's in right now."

Froakie stood. "I second that."

Chikorita stood next to him. "We'd best get moving then," she said, although the regret in her voice was obvious.

Charmander stood right as Torchic did. "Ready," she said.

"Same," Charmander replied, looking over at her.

Piplup nodded. He turned, walked towards the door, jumped a little ways so he could reach the handle. He pulled it, and the door creaked open. He pushed it out, allowing the beaming white light of the sun to come shooting into the cabin. Charmander followed behind him as they walked out. He could hear the clacking of Torchic's talons on the wood as they walked. He could imagine Chikorita and Froakie at the rear, walking side by side.

As they walked, Charmander fell behind a little bit. He walked with Torchic, both of them looking at Piplup in front of them. "Hey," Charmander said. "We can do this."

Torchic looked at him, sadness in her gaze. He was remembering their conversation the morning before, about whether Feraligatr had been lying about Furnace or if he had a contact in the Fire Nation. At this point both were possible, but he knew Torchic's hopelessness had caused her to subscribe to the latter position. In that moment, Charmander knew he would do anything to see her smile again.

As if by instinct, he licked his palm and brought his hand to her head. She opened her mouth to ask what in the world he was doing, but before she could say anything he was already smoothing down the haywire feathers that were sticking up at the side of her head. She looked at him, and Charmander looked at her. It was as though he were seeing her for the first time, just something about it, but he didn't quite know how to describe it.

"We'll make it," he said, not sure what he meant.

But she smiled. It wasn't a large smile, but the sadness was gone, replaced by gratefulness. Only for a moment, but a genuine moment. She knew what he meant by that, even if he didn't. They would make it through this terrible ordeal. They would make it home. They would make it.

They would make it.


	47. Tepig VII

**Tepig**

One week. Seven days. Tepig had counted it, and finally, after so long, he was going to face them.

One week since he'd talked with Fennekin in the halls. One week since both of their tears spilt from their faces and they'd half-resolved their issues. One week since Tepig had overheard the Senators and discovered the conspiracy. And it had been burrowing, digging deeper into his mind, something he couldn't just throw to the wind because it was too important, too threatening to the safety of his Nation. It was an echo in his head, words that wouldn't leave, words the he really didn't _want_ leaving because if they did he could never forgive himself for it if something came of them:

For the Reapers.

Three simplistic words that spelled doom for his Nation. At least, based on what happed in Aquarius, they had to have. And the aftermath. Arceus above, the aftermath of it all. Tepig heard it in bits and pieces. He was starting to go down to the cafeteria located at the rear of the hospital on the first floor for his meals. Flareon had specified that Tepig was to get his meals for free. He didn't want Flareon to go out of his way to do something like that for him, but he did appreciate the kind gesture. It also gave him an outlet to the whispers. Apparently Tepig hadn't been the only one to overhear a Council Meeting occurring in Charizard and Blaziken's room, just the only one to keep quiet about them.

From what he was able to gather, Aquarius had indeed been attacked by one of its own. Whether it was Feraligatr or Kabutops that led the carnage no one was sure of, though Tepig suspected a Senator was more able to gather the resources and trust of another Nation that a warrior, no matter how great he was. No one seemed to know anything about reaping, nor the Gabite that Moltres had encountered in the city the morning after it had seemingly occurred. No one knew anything about a Special Operations branch of the Ground Nation army being personally run by Senator Garchomp either. Tepig guessed Typhlosion and Moltres may have heard the current information circulating had had decided to keep mention of the Ground Nation out of it altogether in order to keep the pot from being stirred any further.

But that didn't stop any other information from becoming available. Tepig had no idea who the informant was, but the general public (at least the ones with Pokémon close to them in the hospital) was receiving convincing information. From what Tepig could gather, Typhlosion had attempted to make contact with multiple important members of the Water Nation. There was no response each time. Moltres had also gone back there to search the city, perhaps for survivors or bodies. He found neither, although bloodstains were prominent in many houses. Tepig guessed that if Moltres had searched the houses when he originally went there, then he may have found bodies waiting to be dragged out of there.

Everyone was theorizing on what was happening. Some were proclaiming it as the end of the Water Nation. Others were saying that Feraligatr was secretly working with the Ground Nation, and he had demolished the Water Nation as a way to gain notoriety for himself in a joint Water-Ground Nation that was going to be built atop the wreckage. That one didn't make too much sense. Why kill possibly millions of your own people for the purpose of a joint Nation? Who was supposed to be ruled then? Who would _accept_ a ruler like that? No, that didn't make sense. Especially when there was one factor to be taken in that no one else knew about; the Reapers.

Tepig had his theory all sorted out. Garchomp and Feraligatr were part of these Reapers, a group of Pokémon that wanted to disrupt the stability of all the Nations in order to forge one massive Nation ruled over by them. For what purpose? Tepig didn't know. How many Nations were compromised with Reaper operatives? Again, Tepig didn't know. It could have just been the Ground and Water Nations. Or it could be all of them. There was simply no way of knowing. But there were two Pokemon that did know, that Tepig could get information from. He had resolved to confront them with his theory the moment Monfero and Quilava started to kiss, signaling that Tepig could leave the room.

Tepig had gotten used to the sunlight. He even had his curtain pulled back most days. It was better than laying in the dark, although the sunlight didn't make him want to do anything except lay there, go to the cafeteria for meals, and visit Monferno with Quilava on occasion. Always with Quilava, though; he didn't want the chance of the conversation being focused on him to arise, and Quilava seemed to know when to leave well enough alone. Tepig hadn't seen Fennekin in the past week, and Quilava had made a note not to mention her. Monferno almost did once, but Quilava had quickly shushed him, looking down at Tepig apologetically. Tepig felt thankful for him, something he never thought he'd feel about another person ever again.

It also contributed to how he was feeling around the two when they began to get lovey. He wasn't bothered by it anymore. He longed for something like it, that was still there, but when they kissed in front of him he didn't scowl due to the longing that pinched at his heart. Instead he smiled, warmly even, because, hey, just look at them! They were better off with one another. In some ways, Tepig thought, some good had come from Furnace getting obliterated. The love he saw between Quilava and Monferno made him realize it was true; even in the ashes, an emerald could still be found.

And he was seeing the glimmer of that gemstone now. "So it looks like I'll be going home in a few days," Monferno remarked.

Quilava's eyes shined with happiness. "That's awesome!" he said.

"Yeah," Monferno agreed, looking down at himself. "My dad, he's re-setting my room. Bought me a new, more comfortable bed. He even got one of those exercise bars. You remember the ones Braixen uses?"

"Oh, I remember," Quilava said, smiling. "She's probably more man than any of the other trainees are!"

"Tougher than her mother, I'd think. Hell, her whole life is preparing for battles. But yeah, my dad got those bars for me. So whenever I get up in the morning, or really whenever I feel like it, I can just pull myself up on them, do a few reps. Maybe by this time next year my arms will be thicker than a tree stump!"

Tepig smiled. It was such an odd analogy, something only Monferno would say with such easy confidence. And Quilava laughed too, a glowing, shining laugh. He leaned in, his eyes glittering with mischief. "Maybe I can come over sometime," he said. "When your dad's not home."

Monferno smiled slyly, leaning his head against Quilava's as he spoke. "Well you know as well as I do it still works."

Tepig smirked a bit. "You guys know I'm still here, right?" he chuckled.

Quilava and Monferno's heads whipped around to see Tepig. Their faces were red with embarrassment. "Oh," Monferno said. "S-sorry about that, Tepig."

Tepig shook his head. "Don't worry about it," he replied. "What you do is what you do. Though personally I probably wouldn't do it in a hospital room."

"Speaking of doing things," Quilava said, his eyes darting to the clock above the door to the room, "my father wanted me to do a bit of training with him. Not really like him to ask to train with me, but hey, what can you do?"

"You think he knows?" Monferno asked. "About us?"

"Whether he does or not doesn't matter," Quilava reassured him. "Same with whether he approves or not. I'm yours."

He kissed Monferno quickly. "Love you," he said, getting off the bed.

"Love you too," Monferno replied, giving him a little wave as he went for the door.

Quilava jumped up and opened the door. As it was creaking open, Tepig drew his attention back to Monferno. "I'd better get going too," he said. "I haven't even had breakfast yet!"

"Oh, maybe you could bring one of those oat bagels up here?" Monferno asked. "I hear they're really good."

"Yeah, no problem," Tepig said. It was true that he hadn't eaten breakfast yet, and he would bring Monferno a bagel before he did, but there were more pressing matters to deal with than what was waiting for them in the cafeteria. "I'll be back soon," Tepig promised, leaving the door open as he went out.

He walked down the hall, walking past patients and nurses and doctors. None of them heeded any mind to him and he heeded no mind to anybody around him. All he could do was focus on Charizard and Blaziken. Their names were ringing in his ears until he caught sight of their room, the room that would finally give him all the answers he had been searching for. When the room was in sight, his mind repeating the names of the Senators was drowned out by a voice deeper within him, one that kept saying it over and over:

 _For the Reapers. For the Reapers. For the Reapers._

He turned into the room to find two empty beds.

At first he thought he'd walked into the wrong room. Tepig doubled back, looking around, peering into the rooms around this empty one. Pokemon in each of them. Some sick. Some with minor injuries. Some with life-threatening injuries. None of them Senator Charizard or Blaziken.

As though by some stroke of luck from Arceus himself, Tepig spotted Flareon walking down the hallway. Tepig looked at him, smiled and waved a hoof in the air to get the lead medic's attention. Flareon looked at him and waved a paw back, then turned to talk to a Simisear nurse holding a clipboard. Tepig sighed. Nothing was ever as easy as waving someone over and getting answers. Everything had to be done through labor.

Tepig approached Flareon just as he was turning away from the nurse. He could see the medic's eyes had large dark circles beneath them, as though he hadn't slept well for a while. Tepig could understand why; the hospital had been full since Ground Nation's attack on Furnace, and coupled with the usual accidents or sicknesses in the city, it wasn't a good time to be a medic. The moment a patient was sent home a new one came in. Tepig felt momentary sympathy for Flareon, but that was replaced with his confused concern very quickly.

"Tepig," Flareon said, the words coming out in a sigh, emphasizing his exhaustion. "What can I do for you?"

Moment of truth. That was what he thought before he spoke. "I was just wondering, when were Charizard and Blaziken dispatched?"

Flareon's eyes widened. "What?" he asked.

Tepig felt his heart sink. Whatever was going on, it had suddenly become a lot more urgent than it should have been. "Charizard and Blaziken. They're not in their room."

His eyes wide with horror, Flareon pushed past Tepig. He stuck his head into the room that should have housed the Senators, and saw that it was empty. Tepig walked towards him a few steps. Then, Flareon looked at the ground. "Son of a _bitch_!" he said. "On top of everything else!"

He turned back to Tepig. "No, they're not supposed to be gone. Typhlosion and Moltres gave me strict orders, neither of them were allowed to leave their room! Oh, shit, shit, shit! I have to alert the Council right away! Thank you, Tepig!" All of it came out in a rushed flurry. Then Flareon was off, running down the halls to get to the nearest radio to contact one of the Council Members.

Tepig's mind was whirling. Understanding dawned on him. No, Charizard and Blaziken weren't Reapers. They may have known about them, but they weren't. Not if they wanted to find Charmander and Torchic safely. That was what they had wanted when he'd heard them last week, something they were begging Typhlosion and Moltres to let them do, even at their own risk: _You need to let us search for them!_ Blaziken's plea.

That's where they were. They'd gone to hunt for Charmander and Torchic, most likely in the ruins of Aquarius. That last part was a hunch, but he presumed the Council would think the same thing once Flareon delivered the news to them. And they would send out a search party, perhaps trainees, perhaps Great Warriors, perhaps a mixture of both. Not too many from the army themselves; they didn't know for sure if the Ground Nation would come back with another strike, or if another Nation would try and attack them if they got word of how devastated Furnace was. No, it would mostly be the experts. Tepig just _knew_ it.

And now the chance had come. All focused on the Senators leaving, everyone panicking about the state of the Council now that two of its members were missing. No one would notice. No one would suspect a trainee that had been cooped up in the hospital since forever ago to do the same thing the Senators were now doing. No one would even notice, not at first. If it took them this long to find out two of their own _Senators_ were missing, how long would it take before they noticed he was?

He resolved to leave at night.


	48. Blaziken II

**Blaziken**

Blaziken slowly put his foot on the break of the armored vehicle he and Charizard has stolen the night before. Luck had been on their side when they were sneaking out of the hospital. The nurses that were supposed to be making sure they didn't leave the room had left, one for a bathroom break, the other to get a bag of chips down in the hospital's cafeteria. It wasn't like they cared about this assignment; every entrance and exit to the hospital was heavily guarded, and had been since the attack on Furnace. No one wanted the Ground Nation coming back, or worse, another Nation realizing how weak Fire Nation had become because of said attack. Therefore, every passage that enemies could get into the hospital from was constantly guarded.

Well, except for the roof.

When they finally climbed that last flight of stairs, Blaziken thought his legs were going to fall off. The hospital was only twelve stories tall, but Blaziken hadn't been out of bed for almost two weeks, save for infrequent bathroom breaks that consisted of a nurse helping him to shuffle to the other end of the room where a door into the latrine was. The last three days he'd been able to go about it on his own, thank Arceus, but that still wasn't enough to improve his stamina.

Charizard had flown them to long storage facility on the other side of the city, saying half a dozen times or so as he was holding Blaziken by the arms that he should lay off the fattening foods, because otherwise he was going to be heavier than a boulder come the winter. Blaziken had smiled at this. "At least I'll be blubbery enough to keep the cold out," he replied.

They got to the facility and knocked out the one guard Emboar that was stationed there. The worst part about putting more guards into the inner city while having a large amount of injured soldiers was that it made other parts of the city more vulnerable. One of these parts was the vehicle storage unit. Blaziken had no idea why Typhlosion had deemed it a waste of resources to keep it heavily guarded, especially at night, but for all Blaziken knew it was just Arceus working his magic on the world.

They got into the first vehicle they found, a small armored transport that would be used to quickly bring in a platoon of about a dozen or so soldiers. They were fairly useless unless used in bulk. They normally acted as both transport and blockades because of how resistant to explosives they were. As they got in the car, Blaziken had asked Charizard if they should raid the armor storage facility a mile from here. But Charizard shook his head. "No," he said. "It'd be nice to have some, but that's still got a good dozen or so guards overlooking it. If we got caught there'd be hell to pay."

And so Blaziken had agreed. They drove off into the night, driving for three hours or so before stopping and turning the vehicle off the dirt path they were on. Blaziken leaned back and sighed, then fell asleep. He was awake before the sun had risen, Charizard snoring loudly in his ear. He let him sleep as he started the vehicle and began to drive. They drove through the desert, the vehicle crossing it in a mere two hours. They were back in lush green before the sun had peaked above the horizon.

And now the sun was cresting the land, fragments of light beaming just bright enough that Blaziken didn't have to keep the headlights on anymore. As he turned them off, he slowly put his foot on the break. He reached into the passenger's compartment. Each vehicle was required to have a map in it, something Charizard had made sure of as they drove the vehicle out of the storage unit the night before. Blaziken reached for the map, grabbed it, took it to the wheel, and began to unfold it.

At this point, Charizard was stirring. He yawned and stretched his wings a bit, careful not to do so too much; he was practically stuffed into the vehicle because of how large he was, something he said he didn't mind (which Blaziken believed, after seeing how well he was able to sleep the night before). He looked down at the map as sleep fled from him. "How we doing?" he asked.

"I think we're here," Blaziken said, looking up at the road in front of them. He gestured to the small hill they had to drive up. "See that?" he said. Charizard nodded. "I think that's the hill just before the entrance to the city. See the dirt in the road, how broken up it is? It's rained here recently, that's for sure, but this has to be from heavy vehicles."

Charizard looked at him. "And you're sure?" he asked.

Baziken unbuckled his seatbelt. "Only one way to find out," he replied, opening up the door.

He got out, drenching his feet in mud. Charizard did as well, looking down at his feet and groaning in protest. Blaziken trudged up the hill, mud sloshing and squishing beneath his feet. Charizard did the same, a grim look on his face. Blaziken couldn't blame him, especially with what they would see once they got over the hill.

He was right. Blaziken felt both scared and triumphant at this, mostly worried as he looked at the carnage that lay before them. Houses were toppled; there were holes in the streets; a large, dome-shaped building was caved in from the top; it was the purest chaos Blaziken had ever seen. There was no sound, not even the stirring whisper of the wind. It was abandoned, no signs of life anywhere, save for whatever ghosts may walk among the wreckage.

Charizard came up to his side then. "No," he breathed. "So it really happened."

They stared at the city for a few moments, Blaziken's thoughts whirling. It had begun, and no one could be ready for it. The four of them would be (three assuming they hadn't captured Empoleon. And they were too smart not to have captured him), but the rest of the world would be in shock when it finally arrived. Blaziken could only hope whatever they were planning would come about slowly, just slow enough that the rest of the world would realize where the real threat was and come prepared, armed to the teeth to fight it.

"This is all for show, you know," Charizard remarked, turning to face Blaziken. "Garchomp could have taken us on the battlefield, if he really wanted to. Just injure us badly enough that we couldn't move and take us. It's never happened before, a Nation taking a Senator hostage as a prisoner of war after the fact, but Garchomp's all about first times for everything. They didn't take us because they don't have a real plan yet."

"You think they don't have it?" Blaziken asked.

"No," Charizard replied. "I don't. They probably allied with Water Nation because they knew Empoleon was one of the four. They might not have found out about us until after the fact."

"And Meganium?" Blaziken asked. "Do you think they know about him?"

Charizard looked thoughtful. "Maybe. Probably not, though. Which is a good thing, as much as I hate to admit it. Meganium is probably the safest of all of us right now. No allies with other Nations, barely associating himself with us. That was probably for the best."

"Empoleon knows, though," Blaziken remarked. "He knows about all of us. And from this…well, they have him. There's no other way to skirt around it, they have him. And with him, they know about all of us." Blaziken looked out at the city, at the ruins that awaited them. "For all we know, we could be walking right into a trap."

"We probably are," Charizard agreed. "We need to be on high alert. But if they already have the children, they'll have no use for us anymore. We're as expendable as any other Great Warrior that won't bow down to Him."

"Who, Garchomp?" Blaziken asked.

Charizard's eyes darkened and his voice lowered. "You know who I'm talking about."

Blaziken swung his view to the ground, not even wanting think of what would happen if they brought Him back. He could practically see the blood, the burning buildings, the screams of the innocent as massive jaws and grasping claws squashed the life from each and every one of them. He didn't need to think about that, not now. Now he had to focus on finding the children and making sure Garchomp or Feraligatr or whoever was in charge of the whole ordeal couldn't use them for their nefarious deed.

"Let's go," Blaziken said, the words sudden even to him as they slipped out of his mouth. He sauntered into the city, Charizard following close behind him. They walked in, watching the stillness of the ruins. Blaziken was on alert. For all they knew, there were soldiers hiding in the city, ones that were ready to tear them apart, assuming they had the children. If not they would become prisoners, prisoners of something far worse than they could ever imagine.

It didn't last long. Blaziken heard a hollow smack behind him. He turned, and what he saw made him wish he and Charizard had broken into the armory. Charizard's body fell to the ground, and for a moment Blaziken thought Kabutops had skewered him with his sword-like arm. But no; he had hit Charizard with the topmost, blunt side. It told Blaziken all he needed to know. The children weren't here, not now anyway. They may have left, for all Blaziken knew. But he also knew that he and Charizard wouldn't be able to, not if they didn't fight.

Before Blaziken could leap at Kabutops, powerful arms gripped him from behind. He struggled, thrashing his legs as the figure picked him up off the ground. "You sons of bitches!" he shouted. "Where the hell are they?"

"They escaped," the figure that held him replied. "But don't you worry; we'll find them."

"Don't you touch them! I'll have your head on a pike, you bastard!"

The figure laughed a bit as it turned, carrying Blaziken towards a crumpled, run-down house at the side of the road. "Oh, Blaziken, you aren't going to be hurting anyone for quite a while." Then, to Kabutops behind him. "Kabutops! Get some of the Gabite to bring Charizard in here!"

"Yes sir," Kabutops said, his footsteps rushing off to find soldiers to carry Blaziken's limp friend to doom right alongside him.

Blaziken looked up as the door in front of him opened. A Blastoise with a wide grin on its face held it as Blaziken was taken in. Standing in the room, looking at a large map hung on the back wall and marking certain portions of it with a red marker, was Senator Garchomp.

Garchomp turned as Blaziken was set down. "Ah, Blaziken!" he said. "Good to see you're still alive!" He turned his attention to the Pokémon that had brought him in. "Feraligatr, do me a favor and subdue him, will you?"

Blaziken felt a great weight on his leg. He couldn't help screaming as an audible snap came from it. He leaned forward, still screaming as Feraligatr took himself off the leg, a leg that was now limp and useless. He looked up at Garchomp, his anger and frustration overtaking his pain. He wanted to badly to jump up and claw his throat out, but he knew if he did that he ran the risk of being killed. For all he knew, Garchomp wanted Blaziken and Charizard, while someone else (like Feraligatr) wanted Charmander and Torchic. He didn't know, and he wouldn't risk his children's lives like that.

Garchomp grinned down at Blaziken. "Now then," he said. "We're gonna have a little bit of fun. How does that sound? I can just tell from your eyes you haven't been sleeping well, all worried that poor little Torchic is out there all on her own! Well, I can assure you she's not on her own, not anymore. Charmander's with her. So is Piplup and, um, what was his name?"

"Froakie," Feraligatr replied. "Greninja's son."

"Right!" he said. "And that Grass Nation nobody."

Grass Nation? Blaziken's mind sent off sparks of panic, and he hoped to Arceus it wasn't Chikorita. If it was, then all Garchomp (it was clear to him now that he was the leader of this whole operation) had to do was find the rest of them and he would have the four he needed. It would all be over then. Assuming, of course, that he had it.

"So," Garchomp said. "You wouldn't happen to know where they could have gone, would you?"

"No," Blaziken said. "No, we don't know what happened to them after the Desert."

"Oh, that's fine!" Garchomp said, a long smile on his face. "We already know where they're probably headed. They've got a Grass Nation trainee with them, Grass Nation is bordering Water Nation. Real easy. And wouldn't you know it, Grass Nation has been fighting off Rock Nation since forever ago! Rhyperior already has orders to take your children and Piplup alive. Oh, and before you even ask, Rhyperior already has the other one. Took him today. He'll send him over with the others when he gets them; probably best if the kid has some company on his way to the gallows. I'm not _that_ cruel."

Blaziken felt panic pierce his heart, but it was only momentary. Him. Garchomp said they had "him." But Chikorita was female! They had no idea Meganium was the other Pokémon they wanted, and it made Blaziken want to jump for joy. He hoped Garchomp couldn't see the victory in his eyes.

It appeared he didn't. Garchomp leaned close. "Now," he said. "There's one last thing we need from you before we throw you in a cell along with Charizard and Empoleon. Yes, we're that close to bringing Him back. It's right there, right under our noses. But we need one final thing from you. Where is the Emerald?"

Blaziken laughed. He couldn't help it. "Oh, the Emerald!" he said. "Do you really think, after what happened last time, that any of us actually know where the Emerald is!?"

Garchomp scowled. "Dammit!" he screeched. "I knew it!" Then his voice quieted. "Alright," he said. "Alright. So it has to be with the Wardens, then. It _has_ to be, but we have no idea where their base _is_!"

Blaziken laughed again. He couldn't help it. Here he was, a prisoner to the enemy that never slept, to the ones always lurking in the shadows, to the Reapers, but none of them had any clue how far they had to get for their plan to become anything even resembling reality. They didn't know that one of their prisoners wasn't one of the four guardians of the Emerald. While Garchomp had guessed right about who had it, they had no idea where the Wardens even _were_! It was absurd, and Blaziken couldn't help but make fun of that absurdity.

Garchomp scowled at him. "Will someone shut him up!"

A sharp pain washed over the back of Blaziken's head as the world went black. But as he was being knocked out, he was still laughing.


	49. Torchic IV

**Torchic**

The sunlight would wake him. She was sure of it, so she froze, hoping, praying that the rays wouldn't cast her shadow against his walls, startling him as he woke. She could see it now. Him, lumbering out of the bed, seeing her crouched in the corner just behind his bedside table, unsheathing his claws and ripping a hole in her throat. The thought of her own blood spilling out on the wooden floor made her want to vomit, and she shook as the figure in the bed stopped snoring and shifted in its sleep.

Silence. Torchic slowly made her way out of the room, careful not to disturb any of the floorboards underneath her, not wanting any creak or groan to awaken the beast that slept in this darkness. She didn't even know what he was, and the only reason she knew it was male was because Chikorita had said so. She'd mentioned his name as well, but Torchic, in her newly found panic, had forgotten it.

Why had she volunteered to go in here? Well, there was a simple answer to that, she told herself, pushing away her doubts as she made her way to the kitchen. It had been a week since they'd left Ivysaur, and they'd run out of food. They'd done what Ivysaur had recommended and rationed what they had, making sure to only eat one bag of food each day. They were hungry all the time because of this method, made even worse by the fact that the three days' worth of food was meant to be eaten by Ivysaur, a single Pokémon, in those three days. Based on Ivysaur's size compared with theirs and coupled with her own hunger, Torchic guessed each of them were eating perhaps a quarter of their usual intake.

It was the sixth day that they bypassed a small town. Torchic didn't know the name, and it seemed as though Chikorita didn't either. All any of them knew was that their stomachs were growling and they had no idea how much longer they would have to sneak their way through the Grass Nation before they arrived at Ivy City. Piplup had gone first, sneaking into a house nearest to the edge of the forest where the other four of them crouched down, low enough so that if another Pokémon walked by at some point they wouldn't see a group of multi-Nation trainees standing in the bushes. Piplup came out with a bit of bread. Not much, but something.

Today, though, Torchic was determined to get something much greater than that. Her lithe body and quick movements made her the perfect candidate to slip through the tiny crack in the only semi-open window they could find in the houses on the edge of this nameless town. And so she went, careful not to wake the sleeping figure as she exited his bedroom, her claws making only the slightest noises as she slowly made her way into the sleeping figure's kitchen.

She walked around a bit, checking the cabinets, finding nothing of edible use. She found one cabinet filled with pots and pans, another one that housed a few utensils (though why they were being kept in a cabinet and not a drawer was anyone's guess), and yet another home to dishes, cups, and other eating appliances.

Then, jackpot. As she opened the next cabinet, it creaked a bit. She stopped, her head whipping to the open door that lay not five yards from her. She heard the sleeping figure turn in its bed and she held her breath, readying to run should the figure awaken and come out into the kitchen. Then she heard it sigh, accompanied by enough silence to let her know that it was still asleep.

Torchic looked into the cabinet. When she saw the pre-sliced loaf of bread inside, neatly contained within a plastic bread bag, she could practically hear her stomach growling, begging for it to please oh please just eat some of that glorious bread! Feeling the overwhelming sense of her starvation, Torchic leaned forward and grasped the loaf with her beak. She pulled it out. Although it was heavier than she thought it was at first, she had no trouble lifting it out of the cabinet. For a moment it teetered in her grasp, and almost hit against the floor as gravity pulled it to dangle from her beak, but she lifted her head just in time for it to stay a few inches above the ground. Satisfied and proud, Torchic began the grueling journey back to the room of the sleeping Pokémon.

She snuck silently through the room, putting one talon in front of the other with care, as she didn't want to lift her claws out of the floor and risk the noise they could produce. She continued to move, her eyes trained on the sleeping figure, every once and awhile darting to the window to see how far away it was. Too far. Every time it was too far. She had to walk so slowly to make sure the figure didn't wake, so carefully to save herself, that every time she looked up the window felt light years away. Even when she'd made it halfway across the room and was just inches from the bottom of the figure's bed, just barely three feet from the window, it still felt miles out of reach.

"Stop!"

The exclamation made Torchic jump, and she almost dropped the bread to the floor. She looked at the sleeping figure with wide, fearful eyes. Her heart was now pounding against her chest, and she felt every inch of her body tense up as she watched the sleeping Pokémon. It still had its eyes closed, although now its face looked confused, almost as if it didn't know where it was. It took her a moment, but she realized that he was having a nightmare, whatever he was. He was crablike, odd-looking, almost like a bug. But she didn't have time to dwell on his appearance; if he cried out in his sleep, it meant he would be close to waking, and the worst thing for him to see when he woke up was a Fire Nation trainee stealing food from him.

Torchic quickened her pace, every footstep carefully placed, but not as careful as it had been, as it should have been. Panic gripped her when the figure tossed itself around in bed again, this time muttering something, something she couldn't catch and didn't care to catch. She kept moving, focusing on going one step at a time, now always watching the window, too scared to look the figure in the eyes when she was caught. Too terrified to watch it as it continued to toss and turn in bed, frightened gasps and words coming from it.

At last, she was there. She jumped up and dropped the bread through the slit in the window. For one horrible moment, Torchic thought the bread would miss the slit and fall on the ground, waking the figure behind her. But no; it fell right through and landed silently on the ground below. Torchic quickly followed dropping herself on the window as quietly as she could and wriggling her way outside. All the while, the dreaming Pokémon continued to thrash.

Torchic picked up the bread in her beak, stumbled for one terrible moment, then ran to the bushes that were only ten yards away, breaking through them to find her four friends standing there, looking expectant for one moment, then relieved in the next. She dropped the bread on the ground in order to utter, "He's waking up!"

Froakie scooped the bread up for her, nodding his thanks. The group, as quiet as they could be, began to run. They didn't run for long, though; Torchic wasn't even tired when they stopped. At that point, Froakie tore open the bag of bread and began to hand out slices of the bread to everyone. Everyone nodded their thanks and began to consume it. Piplup sighed with delight. His wound had been healing well. They had found a few spare bandages in one of the bags Ivysaur had given them, and changing them each night had made for a swift recovery for the Water Nation trainee. Torchic was glad to see him happy, although given his previous broodings she didn't know how long this would last. "This has got to be the best bread I've had in my life," he said. "Damn, does Grass Nation know how to bake!"

"You can have all the bread you want once we get to Ivy City," Chikorita said. "Sir Shiftry makes some of the best around. Although he'll probably be more difficult to persuade then Torterra when it comes to trusting Pokémon from other Nations."

"Oh I am making friends with that guy," Piplup said, his voice muffled by all the bread he'd stuffed in his mouth. At an earlier time, Torchic may have laughed at that. But now that the danger was over and she'd finally gotten the bread for everyone, her feelings of self-doubt and terror were coming back to her once again.

It had all started at the Water Nation. When she saw Feraligatr destroy something that had seemed so permanent, that had seemed so lively, the weight of everything slowly began to push on her. Her father was dead. Her home was destroyed. Even if what Feraligatr said was true, she had to assume it. Something had happened. What else could he have that hologram caller for? Show? No. And what they'd said that morning the other week, the one that felt like eons ago, centuries ago, about the possibility of a Water Nation and Ground Nation alliance, one that could stem out to other Nations to fulfill Garchomp's goal of ruling over his own kingdom…it sounded crazy on the surface. On the surface.

Something had happened to Furnace and she had to run by the logic that it had been destroyed. Maybe it hadn't. Maybe it had just been attacked and was still standing, suffering from massive setbacks but still there, alive, everyone she knew as fine as they had been before. Or the whole of the Fire Nation could have been burned to the ground, everyone and everything obliterated. Perhaps Ground Nation flags were flying, perhaps the sigil of the Fire Nation had been destroyed forever as the Water Nation's had been. But there was no way she could know what had really happened. So she had to operate and base her decisions on the worst case scenario.

She looked to her right and saw Charmander, eating a slice of bread. As if he had seen her turn to him, he looked at her and smiled, handing out a slice for her. "If you want me to break it up for you I can," he said.

Torchic gave him a small smile, one that she fully meant because his was so genuine. He was her last connection to a world the two of them had left behind, one where each of them were part of their own Nation. But now, in this wide space that was the world they hadn't known until only two weeks ago or so, now they were the last ones standing. And she couldn't imagine being in this terrible situation without him.

She loved him. She didn't know how obvious it was to him, but it was obvious to her that he loved her. It was a mutual, unspoken connection, one she felt didn't need words or romance to describe it. They were closer than either of them would care to admit, although not close enough to kiss or share a bed with one another. _Certainly_ not close enough to do what Chikorita and Froakie were doing, practically holding one another every night.

Although the night at Piplup's house had been nice, Torchic thought. But even still, that was comfort. Maybe, just maybe, when they finally got to Ivy City, they could be together like they had been at Piplup's, just the two of them against one another once again.

As if her thoughts had sparked something, Charmander began to speak. "So, listen, I never really got a chance to apologize."

Torchic looked at him. "For what?" she asked.

"Just…the morning after we escaped Aquarius. About knowing or not knowing whether it was true that Furnace was destroyed or not. I was just trying to give you some hope. And myself some hope, I guess. I don't know."

"I get it," Torchic replied. "But I think we need to face the facts here, with what we've finally figured out now. If Garchomp is behind all of this and is so hell-bent on getting the kingdom or empire or whatever that he wants, then we need to act as though he did win. That Furnace is…is gone."

Saying it out loud like that shattered her heart. Everything being so gone, so far from normal, so desolate. Images came to her mind, faces that she felt as though she would never see again. Her father. Ponyta. Tepig. Fennekin. Quilava. They were just gone. She couldn't accept that. A part of her, deep down, refused to accept that. But she knew she had to assume it was like that. It was the only way she could keep…

Keep what?

Charmander spoke. "I just don't think we should give up so easily," he said. "We know Feraligatr was lying to his own people, so why not to us?"

Torchic looked at him. She could tell he was saying this because he didn't want to see her so sad. It was nice, but it wasn't good enough. It isn't easy to take away the pain of death. It sits and it festers and it becomes a part of you. But moving on, that's the only way it helps. Making it a part of you, that's the only way you can fake it through the day and become a new person in spite of the pain. That was Torchic's philosophy. She had to fake it through the pain.

Before she had a chance to say this to Charmander, Chikorita's voice interrupted them. "Looks like we've made better time than I thought we would!"

Torchic looked forward and was stunned to see they were now on a dirt path. They'd just crossed into it, but the thickness of the trees around them had given off the impression that they were still in the forest. Torchic looked up at the giant leaves, seeing how they blocked the sun from view save for a few small slants that barely lit up the path. In front of her though, that was the true sight. A large wooden gate stretched up nearly fifty feet into the air. A wall came out of either side of it, although from where she was standing Torchic was unable to make out how thick it was.

Her eyes travelled down in front of her, and for a moment she thought that a little tree had been planted beside some bushes in the middle of the path in order to block intruders. But that was not a tree and those were far from bushes. Gray spikes stuck out next to the trees. Torchic let her eyes drift down to see that a face was there as well, two large, gray spikes sticking out of each side of it. The Pokémon had large, brown legs as thick as tree stumps, and as short as them as well. The other creatures had yellow backs and bushes atop them. The most startling difference between them and the larger figure was their eyes. While the creatures with the bushes on their backs had black, almost indifferent eyes, the larger figure had red, glowing eyes that seemed to take in every detail of the group with an air of both caution and anger. They rested chiefly on Chikorita.

"You have arrived," it stated.

"Yes, Torterra," Chikorita said. "We are here."

Torterra looked behind her, staring hard at the figures she had brought to the heart of the Grass Nation. The Grass Nation Senator stared at Charmander the longest though. Charmander stared back, and Torchic knew in that instant Torterra had marked him as the one to watch out for the most. Then he pulled his gaze away, resting it back on Chikorita. "We will escort you to the capitol building, where you will explain everything you all have been through to the Council."

Torterra slowly turned around, the other Pokémon around him turning as well. Torterra started to walk forward, slowly, as the gate was slowly opened, perhaps by someone turning a crank that Torchic could not see. As she and the others walked forward to follow Torterra, more of the other creatures that had accompanied the Senator stepped out from the side of the road, surrounding the group. Torchic gulped, aware of how easily they were able to blend into their surroundings.

Then she looked up and saw something just above the gate, something she hadn't noticed before. It was a flag fluttering in the light breeze, a small tear in in that did not distract from what was printed on it: a tornado made of leaves.


	50. Nuzleaf I

**Nuzleaf**

"Well I'm not _happy_ about it, but I guess someone has to do it."

"Nuzleaf, you'll do fine. Besides, I'd rather see you inside the city where you're safer than out fighting in a battle. Plus you'll be closer to me."

Nuzleaf smiled at Roselia while he chewed a bite of his sandwich. She was always looking at the bright side of things. And while Nuzleaf was glad to be back inside the walls so he could be with her more often, he didn't think she realized that their time together wouldn't expand as much as she thought. Sure, he wasn't going to be fighting against Rock Nation troops from sunrise to mid-afternoon, but he would be on guard duty from nine at night to four in the morning. The amount of time he would be actively doing things to keep Ivy City protected would be lessened, that much was true. But that also meant he would have to sleep during the day, and with so little time on his hands, it just wasn't going to be as much time as Roselia hoped.

Of course he would never say anything like this to her. He loved her and hated getting into any form of argument with her. Not because he wasn't argumentative, he knew he was. It was because every time they fought she would always win. This led to Nuzleaf's very own Dealing with Roselia strategy; never argue with her, because you'll never win.

His mind focused back on the present. He reached out one of his brown hands and held the blue flower that was Roselia's left hand. He didn't know exactly how she was able to pick things up with those flowers, something about the way her petals folded or something. But they were as soft as her skin, and as beautiful as her face. He swallowed his bite of the sandwich, still smiling at her. "Darling, no matter how far apart we are, you'll always be by my side."

Roselia giggled. "Oh, Arceus, how long have you been saving that one for?"

"A month or so. Maybe two. I kind of lost track after the fiftieth time I practiced it in the mirror."

Roselia laughed, shaking her head and looking down at her plate, where her lettuce and cauliflower sandwich sat. Nuzleaf, being the questioning hot-headed bugger that he was (at least that's what Torterra had called him one day during basic training when he'd been nothing more but a Seedot), had always wondered why the Grass Nation ate primarily plant-based foods if they themselves were plants. Well, "plant-like," Roselia had said the last time he'd mentioned this to her. "You do realize all life originates from plants, right?" she had asked him.

"So what you're telling me is that if we trace it back millions of years, Fire Nation's ancestors were, like, asparagus or something?" he had inquired.

Roselia had rolled her eyes and side. "You are impossible."

And apparently, Roselia hadn't wanted possible, which made Nuzleaf feel lucky. The two of them had been together for six months, and those six months had been the happiest of Nuzleaf's life. So happy, in fact, that he had a surprise ready for her, one that he still had to get ready a bit, but one that would come nonetheless. She would be thrilled. He thought. He _hoped_.

Either way he was with her, and that was all that mattered.

"Yeah," he said, continuing his conversation with her about his new guard duty. "You're right, though. I'll be able to see you more. I just don't know how it'll be, ya know? Standing up on that wall, guarding the main entrance every night, being the first to die when the enemy comes charging through."

"Don't talk like that!" Roselia exclaimed, taking his hand in her flower. "Really, don't. I'm not gonna lose you."

"You won't," Nuzleaf said, smiling. "I was only kidding. Besides, when's the last time an enemy came from the front gate, right? I'll be fine. Hey, maybe you can come up one night and we can…hang out." He winked, his smile growing wider.

Roselia reeled back with a smile. "Shut up!" she whispered, keeping her voice low. "This is a public restaurant!"

"We're sitting outside!" Nuzleaf said. "No one would notice or care about what I was saying, even if I _wasn't_ using innuendos!"

"Just don't get us kicked out. Again."

"Soldier's honor."

Roselia's eyes slowly drifted from Nuzleaf's face, and then widened with shock. Nuzleaf turned, wondering what she'd seen. When he saw it as well, his own eyes were wide. Torterra was lumbering through the green-painted, brick streets of Ivy City. The buildings behind him rose up in massive towers of steel, constructions that everyone who lived in the city was proud of. Compared to them, Torterra was but an ant. Compared to everyone else that lived in the Grass Nation, though, he was the one that towered above them all. Nuzleaf knew his dad could be imposing when he wanted to be, and his facial features had helped in that regard, but Torterra was imposing practically all the time. He was the only member of the Grass Nation that Nuzleaf hated to get into a conversation with. Although after what had happened only a few days ago, he couldn't help but feel bed for him.

The shock, though, hadn't come from Torterra. It came from the parade that followed him. Grotle were marching on either side of the street in a poor attempt at concealing whoever was being held captive between them. Nuzleaf didn't need to stretch his neck too far to see that Chikorita was there. He felt a bit of joy that she was alive, that their search must have yielded something. It was almost like seeing a miracle occur right in front of his eyes, the way she moved on that street like she was alive, and shockingly enough she _was_ alive. But that relief only last for a moment.

He saw them through the cracks in the Grotle, and for a moment he felt his heart start pumping blood through him faster than it ever had before. Two orange shapes and two blue shapes, indicative of Pokémon that were not part of the Grass Nation. Fire and Water. Those were the only explanations that Nuzleaf could think of. He looked over at Roselia, who swung her head around and stared at him, shock in her eyes.

The two of them settled back down, watching the procession march on. Roselia kept looking away every few seconds, taking small bites of her sandwich in a poor attempt at pretending nothing was wrong, just in case the other customers hadn't noticed what she and Nuzleaf had. But Nuzleaf couldn't take his eyes away from the marching soldiers. He had glimpsed something he hadn't been meant to see, and now he just wanted to see it again. But it was too late, and although he kept trying to steal glimpses of orange and blue, he could not. The procession marched on, heading in the direction of the Capitol Building.

Nuzleaf turned back to Roselia. "You saw them?" he asked.

Roselia nodded. "What were they doing?" she asked. "I mean, realistically, that was…Fire and Water Nation? And _Chikorita_ being treated as a prisoner? What could possibly be going on?"

"Could she have defected?" Nuzleaf asked, realizing it was kind of stupid to think that, with Fire _and_ Water Nation trainees in tow with her.

Roselia also shook her head, solidifying the probability that Chikorita was still loyal to the Grass Nation. "No, something weird is going on. Two other Nations. Trainees, too. By the size of them, at least."

"Man, they are screwed," Nuzleaf said.

Roselia nodded. "Yeah. I think the whole of the city knows how your dad feels about the other Nations. He's more radical than the people running the war!"

"Remember, he _is_ someone who's running the war," Nuzleaf pointed out. "After Venusaur died a few weeks ago he was promoted to Head Council Advisor."

Roselia was silent for a moment, her face contorting into sympathy. "You…you never really mentioned it to me, did you?"

Nuzleaf put his head down. "Yeah, I guess I haven't," he admitted.

Roselia gripped his hand with fierce passion. "Nuzleaf, look at me."

Nuzleaf did, her beautiful eyes shining like two beautiful, black suns in the sky. They were raging with the love she had for him, and he hoped his eyes were doing the same, because he couldn't imagine what life without her would be like. Friends from a young age and lovers for only a short time, but all of it had combined into one single relationship that transcended anything and everything. Time, space, war, whatever. It was all null and void to every single moment Nuzleaf spent with her.

"You are not a mistake," she said. "I don't care what anyone says, even Shiftry. You. Are. _Something_."

Nuzleaf smiled. "I love you," he said.

Roselia smiled. "I love you, too." She let go of his hand and looked down at her sandwich. "So," she said. "I don't know about you, but I'm full. What do you want to do when we're done here?"

Nuzleaf could feel his mood lightening. He smiled suggestively at her. "Well, it doesn't look like my dad's gonna be home. What do you say we go to my house and…hang out?"

She smiled. "I say that sounds wonderful."

Nuzleaf's smile grew wider. Life was good.


	51. Chikorita IX

**Chikorita**

She felt like a prisoner and she looked like one too. She felt the need to keep her head down so the rest of Ivy City couldn't see her, so they wouldn't see the daughter of a Senator being marched through the streets like some sort of trophy for the Council. It would be useless, though, and she knew it, considering the size of the Grotle that flanked her and her four friends.

Friends. She didn't realize how powerful of a word that was until that very instant, as her feet beat against the familiar brick road of her home. Friends. These trainees from other Nations were her friends. They were with her, standing alongside her as they went to face the Council, there to vouch for themselves when Chikorita's voice could not find the words to do so. They were there, and that was good and bad at the same time. Her friends were in danger; she knew it and they knew it. But none of them were going to back down. Not until they all had their safety. Not until a peaceful resolution was in sight.

They walked down the brick road, the Grotle moving in lock-step with one another, something that all marching soldiers of the Grass Nation had been trained to do. It was imposing, that was for sure, and Chikorita could feel her heart racing as they approached the large, green dome-shaped building in the heart of the city. When she saw it, her mind flashed back to the Water Nation, back to Feraligatr slitting Greninja's throat on the makeshift stage. She closed her eyes for a second as she walked, breathing in deeply and slowly exhaling. It wasn't going to be like that, she knew. She had a feeling that all of her allies in the Grass Nation couldn't possibly be part of whatever Garchomp and Feraligatr were planning. She couldn't be sure, and perhaps it was her bias, but she felt as though they were all trustworthy.

At that moment, Torterra turned his head a bit so he could see the group out of the corner of his eye. His red iris glowed pink in the sunlight, something Chikorita had never seen happen but was still scared by. He glared as he spoke. "Do not think that just because you are a Senator's daughter that you will be granted special privileges. I will treat your testimony like that of any other Grass Nation citizen."

Testimony? That word, that one terrible word, made Chikorita's heart beat faster. She nodded at Torterra and he turned away. She hoped he hadn't been able to detect the panic she was feeling, but she wouldn't put it past Torterra to be that good at reading others. He had probably seen right through her, and most likely held no sympathy for her panic. She was going to have to present her friends in front of the Council, as though they were ideas for a new war strategy or something to that affect. She gulped at the prospect.

Froakie, who was walking beside her, turned and gave her a little smile. She smiled back at him, feeling her heart beat with less fear and more joy. As long as she had Froakie by her side, she thought she would be able to do anything. That one, simple smile was all she needed for her confidence to soar, to soar higher than even the tallest building in Grass Nation. She felt power come back to her, and in that one moment she knew how much he loved her, and how much she loved him.

They entered the dome. Chikorita looked up, seeing how the lights that glowed plainly in the ceiling blazed, their rays bouncing off of the marble that was the dome's interior, making her feel at home, even if she felt like a prisoner. In front of her was a long slab of marble, a table, with four large chairs on the other side of it, three of them already occupied, the forth and largest one empty.

The Grotle parted and began to lumber towards the only entrance and exit to the dome, revealing the figures in their entirety. Meganium was the first one Chikorita noticed, his long, green neck towering above the rest of the Council Members, the blooming pink-petals that surrounded his neck making him look royal. He smiled at Chikorita, though there was a hardness in his eyes that frightened her. After almost two weeks away from his daughter, could he truly become unfeeling towards her? Or was she just imagining it, the terror of the situation at hand causing her to hallucinate?

Or perhaps it was Shaymin's eyes that made her feel so hunted. Shaymin was in her flight form, and Chikorita noted a small gash on the side of her cheek, as though she had just returned from battle. It confirmed her suspicions; the Grass Nation was still locked in combat with the Rock Nation. Not that she had truly expected anything different, but she would have preferred it if her and her friends were the only problem these revered Pokémon had to deal with. The bright red flower-like sash that was part of Shaymin's flight form did not do anything to distract Chikorita from the hard gaze she was giving the prisoners, most of all those from the Fire Nation.

The other figure at the table was a shock, although after looking into his yellow, rage-filled eyes for only a few seconds Chikorita understood why the Council had decided that he would be Venusaur's replacement. Shiftry's gray hair and long nose stood out the most to her, despite the fact that his hands were only three lea-like fingers. But it wasn't about his appearance; rather, it was about who he was. Shiftry was the more fearsome Great Warrior Grass Nation had. His simple title (one he did not have now that he was a Senator) had been Sir Shiftry the Strong, but said simplicity only proved how easy it was to describe him; strong. Besides, such an official title was good at hiding his radical nationalism.

Torterra lumbered over to the larger chair and pseudo-sat down in it. His large front legs, ones that were as thick and brown as tree trunks, settled on the marble table. For one horrid instant Chikorita was sure his weight would cause the table to collapse. But, to her astonishment, it remained steady. The Council Members stared at their prisoners for a bit, and Chikorita wondered if they were waiting for her to speak up on behalf of the others. Before she could say anything, though, her father spoke.

"Chikorita," he said. "We are glad to see that you were able to make it home safely. I am sorry that this has to happen now, as I'm sure you want to rest. But, despite the fact that you are my daughter, we must remain formal and unbiased in how we deal with this situation. I'm sure you, of all trainees, can understand this."

Chikorita dipped her head. "Yes," she said. "I understand." She looked at her father and saw sympathy in his gaze, nullifying her previous concern that he was going to mark his own daughter as a traitor without reason for a trial. She still felt nervous, though, mostly because her father, despite being Head of the Council, could not overrule the votes of the other Council members. Each member's vote counted for one and one alone. If she wanted to persuade the Council of her loyalties, she knew she would have to appeal to all of them.

"Now, Chikorita," Meganium continued, "we need to know what happened to you after the battle with the Rock Nation wherein you vanished. Could you please walk us…the Council, through what you went through?"

Chikorita hoped the fear was not prevalent on her face, and if it was that they couldn't detect what it was there for. Krookodile and Tyrunt came to the forefront of her memory, as did their term for themselves; Wardens. She couldn't tell the Council about them, not when she didn't know for sure what they meant and what kind of importance they held. She resolved instead to tell some semblance of the truth, but not the truth itself. It hurt, knowing that the first thing she would have to do to those in power in her Nation upon her return was to lie to them, but at the same time she had a feeling it was the only thing she could do to preserve…well, _something_.

"I crawled into the long grass, right at the edge of the battlefield," she explained. "I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I was in a cave, all bandaged up."

Torterra's eyes widened. "You were?" he inquired. "And did you happen to see whoever had done this to you?"

"No," Chikorita lied, hoping no one at the table would question her too much about it. "I didn't. No one came to the cave, either. I stayed there for about a day or so, regaining my strength. There was a little bit of water at the back of the cave, which I drank a bit of to regain my strength. I left later that night."

"Night?" Shiftry inquired, glaring at her as though he didn't believe what she was saying. "What reason could you possibly have had to leave by night?"

"I didn't know where I was," Chikorita replied, hoping it didn't sound too defensive. "For all I knew the Rock Nation had taken me hostage and the soldiers that were supposed to be guarding me had been shirking their duties. It was safer to leave at night. But…but I never thought about how lost I could have gotten. I ended up in Aquarius, the Water Nation capital."

"And that was where you met these two?" Shaymin asked, looking at the Water Nation trainees with hard, untrusting eyes.

"Yes," Chikorita confirmed, wishing Shaymin would stop staring at them like that but knowing she wouldn't until she'd heard everything. "It was also where I met Charm, um, the Fire Nation trainees."

Meganium had a look of confusion on his face, and even Torterra looked like he'd been thrown for a loop. Meganium stared at the Fire Nation trainees. "You were in Aquarius?" he inquired. "Is this true?"

Charmander raised his head, and to Chikorita he looked a bit too defiant, too unafraid. She hoped that simple movement hadn't cost them everything. "It is true," he said. He explained as carefully as he could how he and Torchic had gotten lost, been threatened by Piplup and Froakie, and had helped them save Empoleon's life. He also made mention to the Water Nation's alliance with the Ground Nation and Ground's subsequent betrayal of trust. At this Shiftry had snorted, as though he saw the Water Nation's attempt at making alliances foolish. _Oh just you wait_ , Chikorita thought bitterly.

"And that's where we were when Chikorita arrived at Water Nation," Charmander finished.

The Council looked at one another, almost as though they were figuring out who was going to be next to speak. At last, Shiftry spoke up. "So, you were all in the Water Nation at the same time," he said. "Tell me, what exactly prompted you all to leave? And together, as well?"

Moment of truth. Chikorita sighed and then began to speak. "Senator Feraligatr of the Water Nation promised all of us safe passage home," she explained. "He held a banquet for us, welcoming us as temporary residents of Aquarius. And then…" she stopped, realizing that she felt as though she was going to cry. Before any of the Senators could interrupt her, she pressed on. "And then he turned against them."

Meganium's eyes widened. "What?" he breathed.

"It's why we're here," Piplup said, stepping forward. "Froakie and I. Feraligatr turned against us, destroyed all of Aquarius. He killed Froakie's father and…and he might have killed mine, too." Piplup looked down, his face downcast in a show of his grief. But not for the sake of show. No, Chikorita thought, there was a genuine pain in his eyes at remembering it, despite how far away it now seemed to be.

"I'm sorry, but this sounds ridiculous," Shiftry said.

"You weren't with us when we first made radio contact with these five, were you?" Meganium inquired.

"No," Shiftry replied. "But I seem to remember you and Torterra being fairly hush-hush with it to both me _and_ Shaymin."

"That is correct," Torterra confirmed. "We did not want you to panic anybody should word have gotten out. The less Pokémon that know about what they told us, the better."

"Secret-keeping doesn't bode well with me," Shaymin said. "Were you ever going to tell us whatever it is you're keeping from us?"

Meganium sighed. "Chikorita contacted us from where Ivysaur is stationed," he revealed. "She says they saw a Gabite in Grass Nation territory."

"Preposterous!" Shiftry shouted.

"Does this look preposterous to you?" Piplup asked, indicating his bandage. "That asshole stabbed me, nearly killed me if it wasn't for your medic."

Shiftry looked into his eyes, suspicious. Then they widened. "You mean it. Don't you?" he breathed.

"We have a theory," Charmander said. "Something that ties both the Gabite in Grass Nation and Feraligatr's betrayal of Water Nation together. We believe that Senator Garchomp of the Ground Nation is working alongside Pokémon in other Nations, including Feraligatr, to create some kind of kingdom wherein he is the ruler."

"Do you have proof of this conspiracy?" Torterra asked. "I'm sure you can understand how insane claiming something like that is."

"We do have proof," Froakie said. "Feraligatr was the one who proposed that Water and Ground Nation have an alliance in order to successfully take the Desert from the Fire Nation. He also admitted that he had a hologram caller in his possession. The Water Nation doesn't use hologram callers."

"That does sound suspicious," Shiftry observed. "But is all of that grounds for conspiracy?"

"It doesn't matter whether the Ground Nation and the Water Nation are conspiring or not!" Torchic had suddenly erupted. Chikorita felt fear grip her heart as Torchic began to rant. "Don't you see? Whether this whole Ground Nation conspiracy is true or not, the Water Nation is gone! Someone from inside of the Water Nation decided it was a good idea to kill its civilians and those in power. Nothing like this has ever happened in the history of the war before. _Nothing!_ So what is there to stop it from happening to the Grass Nation? Hell, Gabite can sneak into your Nation and almost kill someone without anyone noticing, so how likely is it that something like what happened in Aquarius could happen here?"

She stopped, glaring at the Grass Nation Council without fear. Chikorita felt her blood turn to ice as the Senators looked away, and she knew for one terrible second that they were all about to be doomed to a terrible fate. Even Charmander looked dumbfounded and scared. At last, Meganium raised his head and spoke. "I believe you," he said.

"What?" Torterra asked. "Meganium, this is ridiculous!"

"I don't mean the conspiracy, dammit!" he shouted. "I mean the risk. These Water Nation trainees wouldn't be here right now if something bad hadn't happened to the Water Nation. If Feraligatr truly has turned against his own, and if the Water Nation truly is in shambles, we must take any precaution we can to make sure that we are safe as well."

"I agree," Shaymin said. "I can see it in their eyes and hear it in their voices. They're not lying about this. They truly believe a conspiracy is afoot, one that could affect all of the Nations. I believe we need to keep this in mind."

Shiftry looked a bit unsure, but he nodded his head anyway. "I do not trust those of other Nations," he admitted, "but if this has truly happened, which it very well may have, I have no choice but to believe my Nation is in danger. I do not believe any sort of conspiracy is occurring right now, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was coming from Ground Nation, the slimy bastards."

Torterra looked unbelieving at the five trainees that stood before him. "I can't bring myself to believe it," he said. "But I am outvoted. We will take a closer look around Grass Nation, but I cannot fathom how anything save for the Rock Nation and these foreign trainees are putting us in danger!"

"Alright," Meganium said. "Understood, Torterra. We will now discuss what is to be done with the Fire and Water Nation trainees. I assume you all want permission to stay here temporarily until the turmoil in your own Nations is over, correct?"

"That is our hope, yes," Chikorita said, and then immediately wished she hadn't said it like that. She had just associated herself with them. It was out of habit, and she had a feeling that perhaps her father would understand this, but right in front of the rest of the Council…oh, they wouldn't understand at all! She felt herself sinking into the floor, and knew she had marked herself as one of them.

Torterra stomped his foot. "I believe the only way these trainees should be granted residence is if they fight in battle against the Rock Nation for the Grass Nation!"

Chikorita's blood went cold. Torterra had outright suggested sending four trainees to their deaths, and all for the good of the Grass Nation. Meganium swiveled his gaze to the Political Strategist. "That is not your call to make," he said. "War is Shaymin's jurisdiction."

"I agree that having more bodies to fight for us would be a good thing," Shaymin said. "However, by sending them out there as we would regular soldiers, we risk them dying. And from a strategic standpoint, having Fire and Water Nation trainees die for us isn't as useful as…other things."

Bargaining chips. That was what Chikorita's friends were to Shaymin. And Chikorita admitted to herself, guiltily, that that was probably the best use for them the Grass Nation had. They could be used as leverage for an already weakened Fire and Water Nation, leverage to get more land from both Nations in an attempt at expanding Grass Nation borders. It was classless and borderline tyrannical, but Chikorita knew it was something that was apt to work.

"Why not a compromise?" Shiftry suggested. "There is something they can give us, something small, something they will be risking their lives for but something they'll be willing to risk their lives for."

Chikorita had no idea what he was talking about. Meganium seemed confused as well. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"We will grant the Fire and Water Nation trainees a temporary stay at the Grass Nation if they are able to successfully rescue Turtwig from the Rock Nation." Shiftry turned towards Torterra. "That _is_ what you had in mind, correct?" Torterra merely glared at him.

While this brief exchange happened, a whirlwind of thought passed through Chikorita's mind. Turtwig, captured by the Rock Nation? Why? For what purpose? Was he even still alive? Or was that something they wouldn't even consider, instead opting to put her friends (she couldn't stop thinking as them as such no matter how hard she tried) in danger for their own purposes?

"I agree that doing such a thing would be useful," Shaymin admitted. "But how exactly is this a compromise?"

"It's a win-win situation for the both of you," Shiftry said. "If they save him, Torterra gets his son back and you have leverage over the Fire and Water Nations. If they die trying, Torterra gets to watch them die and you…huh. Well I guess you wouldn't get anything out of the deal then. Guess we'd better hope they succeed."

Shaymin only glared at him.

Meganium turned his attention back to the trainees. "It is settled, then," he said. "In order for us to grant you residence here, you will aid in the rescue of Torterra's son, Turtwig, from the Rock Nation. I will brief you on this some more at my home, where you may stay for tonight. The rescue will commence tomorrow morning, two hours after sunrise. Is this clear?"

"Yes," Charmander said, stepping forward. "We wish to thank the Grass Nation for their hospitality. We will aid you in whatever way we can."

Chikorita heard Piplup whisper under his breath. "What choice do we have?"


	52. Charmander XIV

**Charmander**

Despite his calm visage, Charmander was fuming as Meganium and several escort Gortle followed them to the Senator's house. He hadn't expected open arms; that was one thing he already knew about the war. But to go into the Capitol Building for what amounted to roughly an hour, tell the Grass Nation Council everything that had happened to them, only to be told the only way they would be granted safe residence would be if they _fought_ for them, and even then all of it was for political gain…he almost couldn't keep his fury in. The only thing stopping him from trying to fight back was Torchic.

When Torchic had spoken to the Grass Nation Council in such a rebellious, angered way, Charmander had felt his blood run cold. He felt a stab of anger in his heart for her as well, but he knew deep down that it wasn't logical to be angry with her. They had all been through everything together, that was true, but he could tell that it had psychologically messed Torchic up the most. And that outburst had only solidified it. Still, when he gauged the reactions of the Council, he had seen the rage in Torterra's eyes, rage that indicated he had never been spoken to in that tone of voice before, even by one of his own people. That anger, that cold, steel-hearted anger, had terrified Charmander to the bone. His proposal to throw them into battle only so they could die had made Charmander even more cautious about what came off his tongue.

They continued to walk in silence, the sun sinking over Ivy City. They had all been sent to separate rooms inside of the Capitol Building, each one guarded by three Grotle each. During this time, Charmander had to hide his anxiety, anxiety that stemmed from not knowing what was happening to his friends, and not knowing if he would ever see them again. Had it been a trick? he wondered. Had the Council's deliberation merely been for show, only so they could execute all of the foreign trainees one by one? In a state of panic that was stirred by Torterra's suggestion playing over and over again in his mind, he thought perhaps it was possible.

But no, it hadn't happened, and when he was reunited with his friends in the same room they had walked into four hours earlier, he felt like slapping himself for even thinking something like that was possible. Especially with Meganium there. Charmander didn't know if he could fully trust him, but he was Chikorita's father. Plus, what choice did he have?

Meganium was leading the band of trainees, who were surrounded on all sides by the Grotle. He led them further and further away from the dome, away from the heart of the city. Charmander had no idea how long they had been walking, but the slow pace of the Grotle meant they could have been walking for half an hour or half a century. Walking; something that wasn't all that pleasant given the week of walking through the Grass Nation the others and he had done to get here. All he wanted was a warm bed and to wake up while the sun was high in the sky. But of course, the Grass Nation Council had no sympathy for a trainee that wished for those commodities.

At last, Meganium turned. He looked at the Grotle around them with authority, and Charmander saw as he glanced around the genuine respect these soldiers had for the head of the Grass Nation Council. They were good soldiers, only following orders. Charmander realized in that moment that that was all he had to be in order to reach a place of relative safety in the Grass Nation; just another good solider.

"You may leave us," Meganium ordered. "And I don't care what Torterra said to you. I can handle a few rambunctious trainees."

One of the Grotle nodded. "As you wish," he said. The Grotle began to disperse as Meganium opened the door. He ushered the trainees inside, Charmander realizing that he did not want to make a spectacle of them. He felt grateful for it, and quickly went inside.

To describe the house as anything special would be unjust. It was a spectacle, but it was just as simple as any Senator house. Charmander came to understand at that moment that most Senators seemed to live small, keeping themselves on the same footing as the common people, to appeal to them, yes, but probably because they understood that riches weren't everything. The house was made of beautiful, light brown wood, all of it unpainted and sanded to a fine smoothness. Charmander noted that it was only one floor, but that floor was wide and spacious. He guessed the house to be close to two thousand square feet in dimensions. He saw there were very few rooms; a bathroom on the right side of the wall that was led into by a spacious kitchen, one that contained a wooden table and a furnished countertop; a large living room with a large couch, significant for reading as was noticeable based on the bookshelf in the corner, piles of books stacked on it; and, finally, three bedrooms. This last one stung Charmander, as he realized one of those bedroom's usual occupants was never coming home.

"Well, here we are," Meganium said, stepping further into the house than the trainees. He surveyed the area with melancholy, his eyes giving away how unfamiliar everything seemed to look to him. Charmander put his head down as he looked at the floor, admiring the smoothness of it for the sake of the Grass Nation Senator. Something about him gave of an air of honesty. Charmander just had this gut feeling that out of all of the Senators they'd met with, he was the one that least wanted this situation to be a reality.

"Dad?" Chikorita asked. "Dad? Are you…are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, looked at her with hurt eyes. "I'm…I'm sorry. I know how much you must be hurting right now."

"It hasn't really hit me yet," Chikorita said awkwardly, but Charmander could see in her that it already had. He hoped she wouldn't relapse in her grief, not when they needed her to be just as strong for what was to come.

Meganium sighed. "Okay," he said. "Let's just…let's focus on the now. Come. Everyone. Let's sit at the table. There aren't enough chairs, which I want to apologize for."

"I can stand," Piplup offered. Meganium gave him a grateful look, as though Piplup's offer to stand had meant so much more than what it simply was.

"Same here," Charmander said. Meganium nodded at him, his eyes saying more than words could even describe. There was gratefulness, pain, and rage, all swirling inside of him, all revealed in his eyes. Charmander had a feeling the talk they were all about to have was going to allow Meganium to let those feelings out at full-force.

They all gathered around the table, Meganium sitting in the chair positioned at one of the longer ends (the table was rectangular in shape, the ends facing the entrance and the countertop respectively being the longer ends), Chikorita across from him, Froakie on his left, Torchic on his right. Charmander stood to the left of Chikorita while Piplup stood to her right. Meganium looked around the table, his eyes tracing over each and every figure, as though he were studying every detail of them. Charmander braced for what was to come.

At last, Meganium let out a sigh. "I have missed you, Chikorita," he said. "And I'm sorry that your friends have all been dragged into this." Meganium's eyes drifted to Charmander, and Charmander felt his heart jump to his throat. "You," he said. "What is your name?"

Charmander gulped. "Charmander," he said.

"Senator Charizard's son?" Meganium inquired.

"Yes," Charmander confirmed.

Meganium turned to Torchic. "And you must be Torchic," he said, "Daughter of Senator Blaziken. Am I correct?"

Torchic nodded but never said a word. Meganium did not goad her on; he instead turned to Piplup. "Senator Empoleon's son, I presume," he said.

"Yes," Piplup confirmed. "Piplup."

"And you," Meganium said, at last turning to Froakie. "For the life of me I cannot pinpoint who you could be."

"Froakie," Froakie said. "Son of Sir Greninja the Loyal."

"I am sorry for your loss," Meganium said, bowing his head in what looked to Charmander like true regret. "His name is one of honor and of dignity, no matter to its simplicity. Sometimes it is the simplest things in life that are the purest."

Froakie looked down at his lap, biting his lip and trying to hold in his tears. Meganium saw this and stared at him with sympathy for a second more, before turning back to Charmander. "Charmander," he said. "You were the one that accepted the terms of the Grass Nation Council when they told you that you, Torchic, Piplup, and Froakie had to rescue Senator Torterra's son, Turtwig. Can I assume that you speak as leader of your group?"

"No," Charmander said instantly, trying to keep his face straight in the wake of his shock. Him, a leader? Maybe someday, replacing his father as Head of the Fire Nation Council, but certainly not with how young he was. "We are all of equal stature here."

Meganium laughed a bit. "Statue, he says," he said to himself. Then, to everyone else; "There is no reason to be formal here, okay? Sure, I'll be briefing you on what you have to do, but please, drop the formality."

Charmander gave Meganium a quizzical look. What was his game here? It didn't seem to make any sense, unless he was just trying to calm them before the battle they would be going to later on. Meganium sighed and stood up. "You know what? You're all probably hungry," he said. He went to a cabinet, using vines that shot out of the pink flower around his neck to grasp bread, cheese, and lettuce. "I'll whip up some sandwiches for everyone real quick and we can talk while we eat. How does that sound?"

"Fine, dad," Chikorita said, her voice soft. Meganium quickly made a few sandwiches in silence, only taking him roughly three minutes to make one for everyone. During this time, Charmander turned towards Piplup, giving him a quizzical look similar to the one he had just shot at Meganium. Piplup shrugged, and Charmander already knew what he was thinking; they had a warm bed and food tonight. They may as well enjoy it while it lasted.

Meganium served the sandwiches on white ceramic plates. Charmander picked his up and bit into it, savoring the taste. It wasn't the best thing he'd ever eaten, but it sure beat scavenging for food on towns just outside the city.

Piplup was enjoying it as well, and he seemed to be more than willing to make the atmosphere into the friendly one Meganium had wanted to create. "Excuse me, Senator?" Piplup asked.

"You can just call me Meganium," Meganium said.

"Right, Meganium. Listen, I gotta know, did you make this bread? Because this bread is delicious."

"Oh no, I can't cook all that well," the Senator chuckled. "Senator Shiftry made that bread. He's a fine baker, was going to pursue that path had his father not died in battle. That was what prompted him to become a Great Warrior."

"Wait," Piplup said, staring at Meganium directly. "Was that scary-looking guy with the gray fur Shiftry?"

"Yes, it was."

Piplup sighed. "So much for making friends with that guy."

Meganium gave him a puzzled look, but did not dwell on the subject. Instead he turned his attention to encompass everyone in the table. "Right then," he said. "Best if I brief you now. So, Turtwig. He was captured by Rock Nation soldiers three days ago, sometime during a battle where we managed to push Rock Nation a great distance from the city. They only managed to get into the city on one occasion, but we've been pushing them further and further off Grass Nation territory since then. Right now the front lines are a good fifteen miles from the city walls. Not far enough away to keep the citizens calm, but just far enough that we have enough room to maneuver a large force should they push forward any further.

"We've sent a few scouts on recon to go as far as they can through the battlefield. Tropius' are a gift from Arceus Himself, let me tell you. They managed to locate a small encampment just four miles away from the front lines, hidden in a little patch of woods just a few more miles away from the Grass-Rock border. They've got tanks, carrier vehicles, tents, everything. One tent, though, seemed to be heavily guarded. They spotted Senator Golem himself guarding that tent. We believe that may be the tent they're keeping Turtwig in. We don't know why they would be keeping him there, but I have my own theories, none of which I think are too important to share with you right now.

"The basics of it is this; all four of you will go into the Rock Nation's battle zone. You will be accompanied by another, highly experienced trainee named Nuzleaf. I will also be accompanying you. Our mission is to get Turtwig and bring him home. It's going to be dangerous, and survival is not a guarantee. But this is all we have."

"I'm going too," Chikorita said.

Meganium's eyes widened in horror. "What?" he said. "Chikorita, no! You can't! I can't risk losing you again!"

"And I can't risk losing _you_ again," she countered, "but you're still going to go with them! Plus, they're my…they saved my life. Without them I wouldn't be across from this table right now, talking to you. I've gained so much back from where I was two weeks ago. But these four, they've lost so much more. Water Nation is in shambles, and for all we know Fire Nation is too! So please, dad. I owe it to them to help them in their time of need, just like they helped me in mine."

Charmander felt uncomfortable with all of the information Chikorita had provided her father, especially her use of the word "shambles" to describe his home Nation and the Water Nation. But from the look in his eyes, it was clear the spoils of war were not his prerogative. He looked at her, his face void of any emotion. At last, he sighed. "You have matured more than I could ever think and faster than I've ever wanted you to," he admitted. "I don't want you to do this, Chikorita. But I know that no matter what I say, you will find a way to. I don't you to tell me you have changed. But you have, and that is all that matters. You may come. You must be careful, as we all must be. But you may come."

Chikorita nodded. "Thank you," she said. The tension in the room lifted. Only for a moment, though. Then Meganium spoke again.

"And…I believe you all," he said. "The conspiracy."

Charmander felt a chill.

"What you say about what happened in Aquarius," Meganium went on, "it seems too odd for you to just make up. You're saying that if Grass Nation were to send agents into Aquarius, we would see the city in ruins, or at least discover that many had died in what may be labeled a freak accident. You all seem mature enough to know how a lie like that could easily be debunked. So whatever it was that happened in Aquarius, I believe you."

Silence. Dead silence. Charmander didn't know what to say as Meganium locked eyes with him. He didn't need to say anything, it turned out, as Meganium continued to speak. "Something is happening," he said. "Some kind of shift. I've been having dreams, terrible dreams of fire and death, destruction at every turn as the ground shakes. I thought maybe it was my mind going back to the war. Maybe too many battles had done me in for good. But no; no. Not with this news that we now know. Not if something truly is happening. It doesn't matter who is pulling the strings. We must stop them. We must be the wardens of our future."

 _Wardens._

Like a lightbulb going off in his head, Charmander felt puzzle pieces suddenly fall into place. He was back in the Water Nation, Aquarius, on the morning before that fateful night of destruction. They were in front of Froakie's house, talking to one another about what Torchic had head Garchomp whisper in Blaziken's ear before stabbing him; _For the Reapers._

Then Chikorita; _I was rescued by two Pokémon. Krookodile and Tyrunt, they called themselves….They said they were Wardens, meant to protect the world from Reapers or something._

Reapers. Reapers in every shadow of the world. Reapers in every facet of the Nations. Reapers, everywhere.

Reapers.

"Well," Meganium said, getting up. "I'm sure you'd all like to go to bed. You may use…the spare bedroom," he said, turning away as he walked to his room. "Goodnight," he called over his shoulder as he entered his room and shut the door behind him.

The leaf on Chikorita's head drooped, and Charmander felt a pang of sympathy for her. "He's trying to distance himself from me," she said. "But why?"

"Probably because he doesn't want to lose you like he lost Bayleef," Froakie said.

"Guys!" Piplup said, his voice low. "What the hell! That word he used, warden! How the hell did you guys not realize it the minute he said it?"

Charmander turned to Piplup. He was glad he wasn't the only one. Before he could confirm it, Torchic stepped forward. "I know what you mean," she said. "For the Reapers."

Charmander nodded. "Yeah, I realized that too," he said.

"Huh?" Froakie asked.

"The Reapers that Chikorita said those Warden guys talked about," Piplup said. "It just…came to me. What if all of this is, well, for the Reapers?"

"Yeah," Charmander agreed. "Some kind of secret society hell-bent on slowly taking control of all of the Nations, just now coming out of hiding to start striking major blows."

"And Garchomp is probably the orchestrator," Torchic said. "I mean, think about it. Ground Nation helps out Water, attacks Fire, and sends a Gabite into Grass? He's definitely the puppeteer, even if he's got strings on him himself."

"Oh no," Chikorita said. "So…so this could be anyone?"

The room went dead quiet. They all turned to see Meganium's door was still closed, no sound coming from it. Chikorita slowly backed away into her room, although she left the door open. The other four went into Bayleef's room, seeing the bed seemed just good enough for all four of them to sleep in. Froakie looked back into the hallway once before jumping onto the bed, snuggling under the covers first. Piplup followed, then Torchic, and finally Charmander.

They were silent for a moment. Then, Froakie spoke. "You don't _really_ think Meganium is involved in all of this, do you?"

"I don't know," Charmander admitted. "We're probably just tired. We need some sleep; we've got to rescue Turtwig in the morning."

"What we're doing is so inconsequential," Piplup said. "I mean, if there are really Reapers out there or whatever, controlling the world from behind the scenes, then shouldn't we do something about it? I mean, they _destroyed_ my home and kidnapped my father! I don't know about you guys, but the minute we're done with what we're doing, I'm gonna find out where these Wardens are. And I'm gonna join them."

"Me too," Torchic said. "That bastard Garchomp slit my father open. Even if we _don't_ find the Wardens, I'm killing him."

Charmander looked at the two of them, the determination on their faces. They were set for this path, and from the look in their eyes they seemed to be made for it. Charmander understood. Suddenly it was there; rage. Rage for what Garchomp had done to his father. Rage for what Feraligatr had done to Piplup and Froakie. Rage for every terrible thing the Reapers could do if they were allowed to live. It boiled.

"We have to," Charmander said. "After everything they've done to us, we have to make them pay. We have to find the Wardens."

Froakie leaned his head towards the door, as though he were looking for Chikorita. "Do you think Chikorita would want to join the Wardens too?" Froakie asked.

Piplup had a fierce look on his face, as though he were thinking, _Are you kidding me?_ Torchic, though, spoke up before Piplup could make his frustration verbal. "I guess we'll find out in the morning," she said.

Froakie, looking unsatisfied, turned away from the door. Charmander bundled up the blankets, realizing he didn't have any pillows. He opened his eyes to see Torchic's staring back at him. "Listen," she whispered, so quiet Charmander could barely hear her. "I'm sorry for that outburst back at the Capitol Building. I could have gotten us killed and…and I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Charmander said. "We're still here."

They looked at each other for a long time. Charmander felt a warmth in his heart, staring into her eyes. He realized with a start of his heart that moonlight was streaming into the bedroom from an open window. The light reflected off her feathers the same way the morning light at Ivysaur's had a week ago. He didn't know what it was, but he just wanted to hold her.

He moved closer to her and she accepted, letting him take her in his arms. They didn't have any pillows, but they did have one another. He was back in the Water Nation, a time so long ago but not so long ago, holding her while the moonlight shone down on them. He realized that he could do this forever, feel the warm heat of her body against his as they laid in perfect harmony, nothing touching them in the world only they could be in.

Charmander faded into sleep, Torchic still in his arms.


	53. Tepig VIII

**Tepig**

He had resolved to leave at night, and so that was what he was going to do.

Tepig awoke when the moonlight was slanting through the large window in his hospital room. He blinked himself awake, feeling strangely well-rested, although he didn't understand why he felt so odd. Perhaps it was because he had fallen asleep after he'd eaten lunch that day, a day that felt like so many eons ago thanks to the floating, unattainable darkness of his supposed dreams stretching time out to imaginary lengths. Or maybe it was because he was finally leaving, was finally going to try and find out what was going on. He was determined to find Charmander and Torchic and bring them back to the Fire Nation alive. Even if it meant he had to traverse through Hell itself, he would not squander the Nation's moment of distraction. He could not.

But he also couldn't do this alone. He'd debated about going there a bit, and that was what probably kept him awake. It kept him awake more than the sunlight did, that was for sure. As sleep had overcome him, he still hadn't stuck to one rational decision regarding whether he would try to enlist help. But as he woke up and slowly climbed his way down the bed and onto the dark, smooth floor, Tepig knew that he could not do this alone. No matter how confident he was and no matter how distracted the Nation itself was, he could not do this alone.

He walked across the unlit room, following the small slit of light in the door. Every door in the hospital had to have a small, rectangular window directly above the door handle. This was just in case something happened to a patient in the room, such as an epileptic having a seizure or a depressed patient attempting suicide, so a medic would notice and would be able to rush in at a moment's notice to help the patient. The light was obvious, and Tepig started to mentally kick himself for not realizing it in the first place; the hospital was still in operation.

 _You dolt! What the hell made you think they would close the friggin'_ hospital _at night?_

Tepig shook his head. No use dwelling on his mistakes now, not when he had this one chance. One chance that he could easily squander the moment he opened that door. But now was not the time for thought. Now was the time for action. That was what he told himself, anyway, as he jumped up and used his front leg to push down on the door handle, pulling it back so the door would creak open slightly. It did just that. Tepig pushed his head out of the doorway, looking left and right down the hallway to see if any medics were anywhere. He noticed Miss Arcanine's tail swishing as she walked into a patient's room, causing Tepig's heart to jump in his throat. Now was the chance. Now. Now it was time.

Tepig launched himself out of the hospital room, the door suddenly bursting behind him from the force of his body launching out of the doorway. He heard it creak as it slowly started to stop, but by then he was sure Arcanine would notice that a black and orange blur was running down the halls of the fourth floor of the hospital. As quickly as he could, Tepig dashed for the stairs that lay just at the end of the hall, just five hundred feet or so to the left of his room. He ran as fast as his stubby legs would let him, the pumping causing the muscles in them to burn. He was sure at that moment that he would never run any faster in his entire life.

He rushed down the stairs, his hooves clattering against the steps, clattering that made him cringe with the sureness that he was going to be caught, that he was going to round the corner to see Flareon standing there, glaring at him, asking him what he was doing up this late and sending him back to his room and oh sweet Arceus what if he extended his hospital stay? No, that couldn't happen, that _wouldn't_ happen!

And as though it was by the sheer force of his own sudden willpower, nothing happened. Tepig ran down the steps, past the third, second, and first floor, down into the main lobby where the front desk sat empty, all of the doctors and nurses and medics busy with those that truly needed their help. Tepig stopped short at the front doors, looking up at them. They were made of glass for the moment, temporary doors after the raid from the Ground Nation had destroyed the original steel ones. They showcased to Tepig the night life of the Fire Nation, a night life that was always busy and bustling with civilians on their way to a dinner or a play or a book club or a poetry reading or a night club or the bar or something, anything.

It was dead quiet. Just as it had been for close to two weeks, the night was silent and dark, said darkness only broken by the light of the moon and the stars in the sky above. Tepig felt a cold chill go through him as he mentally prepared himself to go into this familiar yet new world. The world was just as empty as he had been, just as lonesome and confused as he had been. As he still was, but not to the degree he had been. He felt a surge of purpose go through him, just as he'd felt it go through him that morning when he'd resolved to find Charmander and Torchic alive. It was caused by this desolation, and it made him feel as though he needed to step into this unfamiliar world to prevent it from ever being this terrible again.

He jumped up and opened the door. It swung open slowly, and he walked into the night. He closed the door behind him, wherein it creaked shut before making a snapping sound as it closed behind him forever. He didn't know how he knew, but he knew with one hundred percent certainty that he would never enter that hospital again. The thought of never stepping back into a patient room made him feel exhilarated and frightened. But there was no time to keep thinking about that for longer than he had to. He turned away from the hospital and surveyed the dark emptiness of this new Furnace. He stepped forward into this new world.

The streets hadn't been fully repaired yet. Holes littered the brick pathways that snaked through the city, holes that must have reminded everyone that passed them of the tragedy that had befallen the city such a short amount of time ago. Tepig looked around, feeling his heart sink when he saw where the original Capitol Building had stood. That great spire of pride and strength of the Fire Nation had once towered above the rest of the city. Now, in its place, was a small, stone, shack-like place of residence. It was about as wide as the original tower and looked just as decorated, but now it had been reduced to only one floor. Judging from its height, Tepig wondered how Senator Moltres was supposed to fit in that thing at all.

He continued to walk, seeing all of the business buildings around him that were still dotted with holes and rot, rot that had not come from age but from the destruction that had been brought upon them. His heart went out to the door business owners of the city, the pastry makers and accessory designers that had been killed or lost everything to the invasion. But losing everything, Tepig thought, was exactly like being killed. It was like having the physical manifestation of who you were and what you wanted ripped from you and burned in front of you. It was almost surreal and seemed impossible, but it had happened to hundreds of residents in the city, all of which Tepig would never blame for voicing their frustrations.

At last, after what he knew had to be an hour or so, he came to it, the one thing he had dreaded to see but knew he would on his way out. The hole in the wall. A large, hundred-foot wall had once surrounded all of Furnace, protecting everything in the city. Even the original Capitol Building had only reached approximately ninety feet in height so it too could be protected by the wall. That was nothing but a dream now. An eight foot section of the wall was gone, a large gap now standing where a stone slab had once taken residence. In the time after the invasion, working crews had managed to get rid of the large pile of rubble that had been the remains of the wall the Ground Nation had burst through. Now it was just a gaping hole, wide enough for a Nation's most powerful tanks to go through single-file.

But it wasn't his concern. The safety of the city was something the Council and the Council alone would have to deal with. Tepig hoped they wouldn't be stupid and would but repairing the wall over everything, including finding either the trainees he was off to seek or Charizard and Blaziken. Tepig knew the safety of the people had to come first in order for the Nation to be preserved and safe. He just hoped others of elite stature understood that too.

He walked until he made it there, and when he looked up at its dark, looming figure, he started to have doubts. But he knew he couldn't do it alone. He steadied his mind, feeling a dark familiar swirl claw its way back in. He could still see her face, the tears tracing down her cheeks as they made up, but what kind of a make-up had it been? Flawed, just as they had been, just as it all had been and was. He felt a sudden exhaustion come over him, like he'd been through all of it, every moment, all over again, all over again in the span of only a few seconds. It was terrible to feel this way, but what other way was there to feel about something like this? He didn't know. He didn't think he wanted to know. He just wanted to get it over with.

Delphox had used loose rocks to form the pathway from the brick to her family's front door. Tepig picked one of these small pebbles up in his mouth, prayed to an Arceus he didn't know if he believed in or not, then tossed the rock at Fennekin's window. It hit off it a bit harder than he expected; Tepig winced when he saw the small strike-smudge on the window. _What a great way to start_ , he thought bitterly.

He waited a few seconds, hoping she'd heard the little clink of the rock. He was about to pick up another one when the front door suddenly swung open. Fennekin stood there, her eyes bleary with exhaustion and dark circles under them, indicating to Tepig that whatever sleep she was having, it had been broken long before he'd come to the door.

"Tepig? What the hell?" Fennekin whispered, stepping into the night. Tepig felt a cool breeze chill him, and he wasn't sure if it was real or not, given that it never even ruffled Fennekin's fur. She glared at him, not with malice (which he was relieved about) but with a healthy amount of annoyance.

"Fennekin, listen," Tepig said. "You already know that Charizard and Blaziken disappeared, so everyone is going ballistic trying to find them. I think…I don't know, I just feel like this is the perfect chance to find Charmander and Torchic. Listen, wait, don't go! Wait." Fennekin, who had turned towards her door and started to walk back inside, stopped abruptly and spun around to face Tepig. "Look, I don't know where they are, but something tells me they're still alive. And I feel like, with everything that's been going on recently, we'd be able to…I dunno, slip away without anyone noticing. They would do the same for us, Fennekin, you know they would. So come on, what do you say?"

She didn't say anything for a moment. Tepig felt the night silence slowly weighing down on him as Fennekin stared at him with a hard, stony face. He already knew he wasn't going to be shocked by her answer, but her next words did throw him for a loop. "I'm going to be a medic."

Surprise hit him like a small rock. "A medic? Wh…well, that's good, we can always use more. But, you know, if you don't mind me asking, why?"

"After the Ground Nation invaded Furnace, I felt useless," Fennekin explained. "I was looking at all of these injured soldiers, seeing all of this blood and chaos everywhere, all in my home, and there was nothing I could do to fix it. Nothing but keep training for the next fight. But Tepig, I don't _want_ to train for the next fight. I'm as skilled as I'll ever need to be, I think. I want to be able to help soldiers that are wounded in battle. I want to be able to find a way to cure soldiers like Monferno who suffer paralysis. I want to…I want to be there to save lives. Lives like…like Ponyta's." Fennekin looked away at the mention of their deceased friend, and Tepig could see her eyes shining with tears that she was fighting back.

"Okay," Tepig said. "Okay, yeah, I understand. But how does that prevent you from helping me find Charmander and Torchic?"

"I've already talked with Flareon," she said. "He's going to take me to Flintwood in three weeks so I can start some basic training with him. He says that was where he learned how to be a medic, and that's where I should learn. I'm not going to just fling off this opportunity for friend who are…" she trailed off.

"What?" Tepig asked, knowing already what she was going to say. Fennekin looked down at her paws. "Friends who are what?" Tepig demanded.

"Friends who are dead, Tepig, okay?" she said, glaring at him. "Tepig, it's been close to two weeks at this point. If another Nation hasn't killed them yet, then the elements have. Think, Tepig! They have no idea how to survive on their own out there! They don't know what to do, where to go, nothing! They're dead, and there's nothing you can do about it!"

"You know what, forget I was even here," Tepig said, turning away. He was hoping that Fennekin would make a smart remark, he even expected it, just so he could hear her voice address him one last time before he left. But she didn't, and he heard her door close behind her as he went off into the night.

He retraced his steps, trying to push Fennekin out of his mind as he went to the gap in the wall. He looked at it at the towering stone on either side of him, acting as pillars that marked an unfamiliar entrance to the city. Tepig sighed. Maybe it was best if Fennekin hadn't come with him. At least now he wouldn't have anyone he would have to explain any of his crackpot theories too. At least he would be able to keep this whole Reaper business, whatever it meant, to himself.

He didn't know the exact way to Aquarius, but he thought that if he walked for long enough, through the Red Desert and into the Water Nation, he would be able to make it there. He would need to be careful, just in case of any surprises from the Water Nation, surprises he would retaliate against in any way he could.

He breathed in one last breath from Furnace. He stepped out, walking through the wall, as though it had parted for him. He came to the other side and started out into the forest that awaited him. He took his first step into the world, and vanished among the trees. The search for answers had begun.


	54. Piplup X

**Piplup**

It wasn't light out when Piplup woke up, shivering in an unfamiliar bed. He looked around wildly, trying to decipher where he was. He couldn't exactly remember what he was doing in this unfamiliar bedroom until his eyes rested upon Charmander and Torchic. Charmander had his arms around her, and she had her head nuzzled into his chest. It was a sight that Piplup didn't think much of and felt was an obvious one to wake up to, had the dream he couldn't remembered not felt like an eon of life. It all came back to him in a quick burst; Turtwig, Meganium, the Wardens, the Reapers. Froakie.

Froakie? Where the hell _was_ he?

Piplup slid off the bed, careful not to make too much noise for fear of waking the Fire Nation trainees, trainees he now felt a connection to. Who wouldn't feel something like that, a kinship with those whom you had suffered great loss with? Part of him knew this specific connection was unnatural, something born of terrible times that could not be destroyed but at the same time probably shouldn't exist. It was like what was happening between Froakie and Chikorita; it was, but it shouldn't have been.

And at least the friendship (that was the word, Piplup realized with an odd sense of foreboding) he had with his companions from other nations was just that; a friendship. At least romantic undertones didn't exist with his thoughts. At least he understood the impossibility of what Froakie and Chikorita wanted that neither of them could get through their heads. He wasn't shocked, as he walked out of the bedroom, to find Froakie cradling Chikorita in his arms, the two of them lost in a deep sleep.

Frustration and fear overwhelming him, Piplup stalked up to the side of the bed. He stared at their peaceful figures for a few seconds, a small part of him almost not wanting to interrupt the loving embrace the two of them were locked in. It wasn't a malicious feeling that made him prod Froakie awake. It was fear. Fear that Meganium could come out of his bedroom at any moment and turn to see his daughter wrapped in the arms of a Water Nation trainee. If anyone was going to feel Meganium's wrath, Piplup didn't want it to be his best friend.

Froakie stirred, slowly at first. Then he jolted up, and for one terrifying moment Piplup was sure Chikorita would awaken as well, nullifying any sort of talk Piplup could have with Froakie about what was going on. Because, really, this had to stop. And if the only way he could stop it was to tell Froakie off from it, Piplup had to resolve to try.

"Hey," Froakie said, looking confused and a bit angry. "What's up?"

"Come here," Piplup said as calmly as he could, not waiting for Froakie to move as he made his way for the door. He turned in the doorway, though, to see that Froakie was still in the bed, one of his arms still wrapped around Chikorita. Piplup glared at his friend, not wanting to make him angry but not knowing what else to do. "Come here," he repeated. Froakie, rolling his eyes, complied, slowly edging his arm out from behind Chikorita's body and lifting himself from the bed onto the floor. Piplup admired how careful he was being, and in a way it was almost comical. But Piplup couldn't feel any laughter, not when he knew the implications of what his friend was doing.

"Yeah," Froakie asked as he got closer to Piplup.

Piplup turned and walked out of the room, not wanting to talk to him while they were in there. He took Froake roughly a dozen paces away, walking until they were just behind the large couch that occupied the more relaxation-based area of the house. He turned on Froakie then, unable to keep the fear-induced rage out of his voice despite his whipser. "What the hell are you thinking?" he asked, glaring at his friend. "You do realize you're not all that subtle about how you feel about her, right?"

Froakie looked taken aback, then shot a glare right back at Piplup. "It's none of your business," he spat. "What we've been through, I just needed someone that would be there for me. And she was. She is. Piplup I…I really do like her. A lot. So don't take this from me."

"Oh son of a bitch," Piplup whispered, putting a flipper to his face. "You do realize what the implications are here, right? You and her, together. Two Pokémon from two different Nations, both of you, what, in love?" Froakie looked down at that. Piplup felt like he was going to explode with fury. "Froakie! You can't think these things!"

"You can't tell me what to do," Froakie replied, his eyes defiant. "And you can't tell me how to feel, either. Maybe I love her. Maybe I don't. What does it matter? We're all stuck in this together now, aren't we? You said it yourselves, we all want to go and join the Wardens when all of this is over. And I talked with Chikorita last night, she says she's up for it. We already know the Wardens are a mixture of Pokémon from different Nations, so why the hell wouldn't they be okay with two Pokémon of different types being together?"

"How the hell don't you understand this?" Piplup asked, hoping his voice wasn't going to get loud enough that others were going to awaken because of it. "You are hugging Senator Meganium's daughter in her bed, and at any point he could have just walked right out and we'd all be in a whole hell of a lot of trouble because of _you!_ "

"I was going to get up before he woke up," Froakie retorted adamantly.

Piplup felt a great wave surging over him, one of both frustration and hopelessness. "Look," he said. "I get it, you like her. But could you at least tone down your affection, please? We all notice it, and personally, it makes me nervous. Especially when we're in their territory. So could you at least keep it low for a little while?"

Froakie stared back in silence, hate glazed across his eyes. Piplup hadn't meant to make him his enemy, hadn't meant for the pain he saw in his gaze to exist. But he knew that it had to happen, that it wasn't just Froakie but the rest of them that had to be protected. That it was all about survival now, whether Froakie cared or not. And what he was doing was jeopardizing that survivability.

"I'll think about it," Froakie responded.

Before Piplup could protest, Meganium's door creaked open. A long neck shot out of it, and Meganium yawned. The pink petals around his neck glittered in the sunshine, like a light red halo was forming around his throat. He looked over at the Water Nation trainees, surprise covering his face. "Oh," he said simply. "I didn't expect anyone to be up yet."

"Well…here we are," Piplup responded, trying to sound friendly while also dispelling any sort of incorrect suspicions the Grass Nation Senator may have had.

Meganium looked at them carefully, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. "What were you two talking about just now?"

Knowing it would probably lead to a speech but also knowing there was no other way out but a lie, Piplup said, "We're just nervous is all. I mean, we don't know what kind of battle tactics the Grass Nation uses. We don't know anything about that Nuzleaf guy you said is going to be going with us. Hell, we don't even know how we're going to get to the front lines! I guess what I'm trying to say is, we're scared that something is going to go wrong. That one of us isn't going to make it out alive."

Meganium looked at them sympathetically for a moment. Then he sighed. "I know," he said. "I understand your concerns about today. They're the same concerns I have every single time I step out on that battlefield. I may be a skilled warrior, but that doesn't mean one of these days, I won't make it home. In fact I…I already know that I will die on the battlefield. It could be as soon as today, it could be as late as ten years from now. But something in my soul, something deep within me, tells me that I will never grow old. I will never see grandchildren. I will never know what it's like to live a peaceful life. It stings, and some nights, especially in the last few weeks, it can be hard to fall asleep, not knowing if it's the last time I will ever fall asleep and wake up.

"But I have to keep going. I keep going not for myself, but for Chikorita. It's why I don't want her coming to the battle today. Because I need to keep her safe. I need to make sure that she lives long enough to see peace in this world. She deserves at least that, with all that she had gone through, and all that she will go through before this war is at an end."

"Do you think the war could end?" Froakie asked. "That…that maybe what's going on now, with what happened to our Nation, that it's the start of change?"

Meganium looked down. "I've no idea," he admitted, and for the first time Piplup noticed the dark circles that hung beneath his eyes. "A part of me hopes the war will end soon, but from what you have told me, that could mean the enemy would be the one to win it. That cannot happen. Garchomp, or Feraligatr, or whoever is pulling the strings, cannot be allowed to conquer others in the hopes of gaining more power for themselves. That is not peace. That is tyranny. If we want to strive for the war to end, we must come together against those that wish to take away our freedom. I think…I think many more will die before peace comes. More than I want to think about. But it will come. And now that you mention it, now that I think about it…the end is near. And whether or not that is a good or a bad thing is up for you to decide."

Piplup felt an icy chill roll down his back. The end. It felt like everything was just beginning, yet Meganium was already talking about endings. _Maybe it's not that everything's begun,_ Piplup thought. _Maybe it's that everything has begun to end_.

Meganium lifted his gaze away from the Water Nation trainees, a small smile forming on his lips. "Alright," he said. "Enough with the drama. I want all of you to be ready for the day ahead. We will leave in an hour. I will be providing you two and the Fire trainee with hands with knives." Piplup couldn't suppress a chuckle at that statement. Meganium's smile widened. "What, did you think I was all doom and gloom?" he said. He continued. "As for her, Torchic, I will be giving her a blade as well. Smaller, though, so she can hold it in her mouth and sheath it as she must. Hopefully she doesn't claw me for that."

Piplup remained where he was while Meganium went to the kitchen. He used vines that came from his flower to open up a cabinet. Then he turned back to Piplup and Froakie. "I'll make some pancakes if you can get the rest of them up. Does that sound like a fair deal?"

Piplup nodded. He looked over at Froakie, whose eyes were almost begging him. He sighed inwardly, not wanting Meganium to suspect anything. "You go wake Chikorita, I'll wake the other two," he said. Froakie nodded, and the minute thankfulness in his gaze made Piplup hope that soon he would be able to repair their teetering friendship.

As he went to the spare bedroom, Bayleef's old bedroom, the one where Charmander and Torchic now slept in one another's arms, Piplup couldn't help but feel his heart pounding with hopeless nervousness. But he had to steel himself. He had to prepare for the battle ahead. Because there was a real chance that not all of them were going to make it back from this rescue mission alive.


	55. Nuzleaf II

**Nuzleaf**

Nuzleaf touched the hilt of the small sword he had sheathed at the waist, the welcoming blow of a cool wind against his face. He sighed, staring out at the deserted plain that stretched out in front of him. The ground was dark, while blades of grass jutted from that darkness, reaching into the sky as though searching for hope. He still didn't understand why, the day after he had been relieved of his battle duties, he had been called by the Council to report to the front lines the next morning. He'd been briefed, so he understood _why_ he was there. What he couldn't understand was _why him_.

His father hadn't been on the Council a month, and already it looked as though he had more power than one would think at a first glance. That was the only explanation Nuzleaf had in terms of why he of all warriors, and a trainee no less, had been tasked with helping out the miscreants from other Nations and the possible defector. It was all he could think about as he stood there waiting for them, the heat of the sun's slanting beams contrasting with the occasional wind that chilled Nuzleaf's skin. Chikorita must have done something if she was coming to the battle as well, although her being punished for bringing in refugees from other Nations didn't seem like the kind of thing Meganium would allow to happen. He'd deduced that perhaps she had volunteered to go into the battle, and if so, she may have had a soft spot for them. Defection, yes, but for which side Nuzleaf didn't know.

Water Nation didn't seem likely. It was a shock to hear about the destruction of Aquarius, and even more shocking to learn about the Gabite that had been found in Grass Nation territory. And so close to where one of his best friends, Ivysaur, was. The Council had already confided in him that they had already sent a few guards to where Ivysaur was staying, and he would be safe from any outer harm that could possibly befall him (of course, Nuzleaf knew Ivysaur was probably pissed about this, considering his time with the Sunflora from Maple he'd written to Nuzleaf about would be cut down significantly). Despite the protective nature of the Council, Nuzleaf couldn't shake the feeling that there was something they weren't telling him. Something he could probably piece together on his own if he wanted to, but nothing he really wanted to focus on.

His only focus was making it back to Roselia alive. Right after the Council had dismissed him, Nuzleaf had sprinted over to Roselia's house. Her mother, Roserade, had answered the door, and Nuzleaf politely caught his breath while Roserade, concerned, fetched her daughter. Nuzleaf had explained it to her Roselia in a rush, making sure to note that he didn't (and he seriously _didn't_ ) want to be party to this rescue mission. Roselia had looked down when he finished, her eyes starting to tear up. She knew the dangers, and she also knew the pain of loss already. Her father had been killed five years earlier, and it had torn her apart for a long time afterwards. Nuzleaf couldn't let her go through that pain again. He couldn't die with the knowledge that it would hurt Roselia so badly.

Roselia had asked him to come inside, and he had. They'd gone upstairs to her room, where she'd made Nuzleaf promise her that he wouldn't go back out to battle after this. Looking away, he'd told her he didn't know if he could do that, not if the Council could just pull them into their will at any given moment. Roselia had reached out to him with one of her rose-hands, turning his face gently to face hers. In the faint glow of the moon, she was more beautiful than ever.

"If you can't promise me this is it," she said, "then at least promise me you'll come back home."

He didn't know if he could do that. The fact of the matter was, he didn't even know if he would be alive in the next twenty-four hours. All the same, the look of desperation in her eyes, the shimmering of the moonlight glancing off her pure skin, the knowledge that she loved him and he loved her, loved her more than the stars in the sky, more than the comfort of a spring day, more than Arceus Himself, made two unreliable words tumble from his mouth:

"I promise."

He kissed her, holding her, feeling the warmth of her body as they laid down on her bed, quiet so her mother wouldn't hear, pressing against one another in the way only lovers could. It was hopeful and hopeless at the same time, the passion they exuded, but if felt right because they were, in that moment, one.

He had to come back. He knew this as he looked up at the sun, squinting so he could see the clouds that lazily floated around it with more ease. He knew it as the sound of an incoming transport vehicle filled his ears. He knew it as he turned and saw it was being driven by Senator Shiftry, his father, who was looking at him with a stoic, emotionless gaze. Nuzleaf held back the urge to glare at him, remaining businesslike as he got out of the vehicle and went around back. Nuzleaf heard the doors open, heard a few figures stepping out, and watched as the six he was meant to accompany stood in front of him.

Meganium, Chikorita, and the others that the rest of the Council had told him about the day prior: Charmander, the orange one with hands; Torchic, the orange bird; Piplup, the blue bird; Froakie, the other blue one. That's how he registered them, anyway. He'd been told that Meganium had taken them back to his house to brief them on the mission, which explained his absence during Nuzleaf's own briefing. He looked at the figures, younger than he was, although with a dullness in their eyes that he could relate to. Especially now, when he felt so lost.

Nuzleaf nodded. "Hey," he said. "I'm Nuzleaf. Looks like I'll be joining you guys."

Shiftry had gotten back into the vehicle and, without a word, started the engine. As he backed up and then pulled away from the group, moving in the direction of Ivy City, Meganium said, "I'm glad we can all be together for this. This mission isn't something we should think of lightly. Our lives are being put on the line for this, and so we must take every precaution necessary in order to survive."

Meganium nodded towards the large convoy of soldiers that would be accompanying them. In all, Nuzleaf estimated there were roughly four thousand Pokémon there, ready and willing to sacrifice their lives for the greater good. Nuzleaf felt a stab of guilt for an instant at the fact that, if given the choice, he probably wouldn't be doing this right now. Then he thought of Roselia, the promise, and forced himself to stop thinking about what he would have and would not have done.

Meganium continued. "We will be fighting the Rock Nation in a true battle, using it as our distraction so that we may slip into their encampment and rescue Turtwig. If we are able, we should do our best to weaken Rock Nation to the point that they will retreat. Kill any and all in your path, no matter who they are. It is…regretful, that it has come to this. But now we face no option but to do what we must do. The encampment is two miles from this very location. If we continue forward, we should have no trouble finding it. Our only trouble will be discerning how widespread the guards for the camp are. They are what we must be on the lookout for the most now."

Nuzleaf nodded, agreeing. The dangers were mounting, and despite having fought for so long, he couldn't help but feel his heart beating faster than usual. The fact that they would be surrounded by enemies on all sides was a scary prospect all on its own. But to be in that situation with only a few soldiers compared to other battles…Nuzleaf shook his head. Whatever Meganium was thinking, it didn't seem smart to him. Still, he could not stray from whatever orders he was given; he was along for the ride, and they would do whatever they would have to in order to use him to their advantage.

Still, the Grass Nation Senator continued. "We will march from here to the camp, moving at a brisk pace and doing whatever we can to make it known that we will not give up. We are here to destroy them, the take back Torterra's son, and the show them that the more of us who fall, the stronger it makes us."

As if spurred on by his own words, Meganium walked towards the front of the army, leaving Nuzleaf alone with the other trainees. He looked at Chikorita for a moment, who nodded to him. He nodded back, less out of acceptance and more out of courtesy. He still didn't trust her, no matter how comfortable she and her father tried to make the other trainees. Trainees Nuzleaf trusted much less than he trusted Chikorita.

But that didn't matter, not when Meganium was making a speech to the entirety of the army, one that would solidify his role in this entire mission. "Friends!" Meganium shouted. "We come here today not out of obligation, but out of the desire to hope! We are here to take down the Nation that has wrongfully made our people, our wives and our husbands, our sons and our daughters, fear for their lives! They have taken too much from us, and in doing so have resorted to stealing one of our own! What Turtwig is suffering now is anyone's guess, but there is a single truth in his suffering; it ends today! We may not be as large as we've been before, and we may lose many to this battle. But one thing is for certain! We will prevail! No matter how many of us fall in battle, no matter how many of us do not make it home to our loved ones, know that a sacrifice of one today is one that will save ten from death tomorrow! We cannot be stopped, because the power of the Grass Nation is in all of us! We will not be crushed! We will _prevail_!"

A loud whooping cheer rose up in the soldiers. Even Nuzleaf could feel an unethical stirring of excitement from Meganium's impassioned speech. Hope flared up in him then, as Meganium turned away, as he shouted the words of the Grass Nation, which were taken up in a repetitious scream from the soldiers:

"THE BLADED LEAVES CUT SWIFT!"

Over and over again it was repeated as they marched, Nuzleaf staying close to the trainees as they did so. He glanced over at them once or twice in the first mile and a half of their march, one that was void of any conflict and one that caused the screaming to die down due to the length of the march. He couldn't help but notice how close to them Chikorita walked, like she was one of them. It irked him to say the least, and he hoped she realized just how much this seemed to discredit her. They seemed to avoid him, though, probably because he was an outside face that hadn't shown any reason to be trusted. He was glad about this, since the feeling was very much mutual.

At the mile and a half mark, they came. Nuzleaf could seem them over the horizon, a vast array of different-sized blobs congealing into a monstrous snake, one that was moving sideways at the Grass Nation army, another snake they had to intimidate before the worst case scenario of having to bite its head off. Nuzleaf had no idea where this analogy came from or why it came to him, but he did find himself chuckling a bit inside, making him want to tell Roselia the minute he got home about what he was thinking.

Meganium began to pick up speed, running, the pink petals around his lengthy neck shining in the young sun. "It is time!" he shouted triumphantly. "It is time to take back Turtwig! It is time to take back ourselves! The Bladed Leaves Cut Swift!"

"THE BLADED LEAVES CUT SWFIT!" the soldiers echoed, as they too began to run forward, an assortment of armor shining. It was at this point he realized that Meganium didn't even have a weapon on him, let alone armor. Nuzleaf felt befuddled by the fact that he'd been too concerned with other things to notice, and by the fact that he didn't have any protection at all. What the hell was he thinking, going into battle completely unprepared?

The other trainees, however, didn't seem at all concerned by this, or they just hadn't noticed yet. Nuzleaf could understand, however, with the destructive army approaching as the seconds crawled by. Nuzleaf felt himself running, his feet moving roughly against the grass-bladed field, could feel the excitement and the worry make his heart pump as he unsheathed his blade.

The first thing he saw was a Rhydon, a gray bipedal with a drill nose, charging him with his own blade. Nuzleaf, however, was swifter than he was. With a flashing swipe downwards, Nuzleaf's sword, made from a hard metal with a name that always slipped his mind, pierced the rocky flesh of the Rhydon. Nuzleaf smiled. They may have resembled rocks, but they could still be killed.

The Rhydon's eyes opened wide as Nuzleaf pulled the blade out. The side of the Rhydon's neck gushed with blood as its eyes began to glaze over. The blade dropped before the body did, the river flowing from its neck painting the grass red.

Nuzleaf heard a grunt where the trainees were. He turned, ready to fend off an enemy to at least save Chikorita, when he stopped and stared. The five of them were tackling with one Rhydon, a Rhydon that had so far not been able to pierce them with either its sword or its drill horn. Torchic was latched on its head, scratching against the skin that, while looking hard at a glance, was just as soft as that of other living things. Piplup and Froakie charged at the legs, knocking the Rhydon to the ground. Torchic jumped off just as the Rhydon hit the ground, a ground that was lit up by a flame emanating from Charmander's mouth. The Rhydon screamed, and, realizing it would be too risky to keep it there, burning, Chikorita wrapped her vines around its neck, her face contorted in a look that revealed how much effort she was putting into what she was doing. At last, the Rhydon's neck twisted at an odd angle, right before the figure stopped screaming, the fire still singeing its flesh.

Nuzleaf turned away, impressed. _I guess Meganium underestimated them_ , he said, slashing at a Rhydon that thought it would be a good idea to charge at him until his belly had been split open. Nuzleaf turned into the rage of battle, keeping close to the trainees because of the promise he'd made to accompany them, but knowing inwardly that this was not his fight.

He was sweating and his arms were hurting by the time something new came into view. He could barely make it out, but the stationary nature of the shapes in the distance made him realize what it was. He didn't know they had been moving that fast, and grasped with victory just how many men were left. Looking at the army around him, he would have been surprised if they'd lost more than five hundred soldiers. Looking ahead again, Nuzleaf could feel a conquering glow in his heart as he continued to slash at his enemies.

The Rock Nation camp was up ahead. Which meant soon, the rescue mission would begin.


	56. Charmander XV

**Charmander**

Charmander's teeth gnashed as he blew a fresh plume of fire at the approaching Rhydon. Startled by the sudden appearance of fire from an assumed Grass Nation soldier, the Rhydon turned before it could be caught in the flames, only to have its chest ripped open by the slicing sword of a Sceptile warrior. In turn, this Sceptile was barreled into by a hulking blue and gray beast that had just entered the battle. This beast, with small red eyes, was making a beeline directly for the foreign trainees, its eyes locked on them in pure hatred. Charmander gulped, slightly regretting his decision to reveal his true identity (one he realized later on wasn't apt to be hidden in the first place).

As the beast charged, Charmander spun around out of its way. It head-butted the thin air in front of it, growling like an animal as it turned to face Charmander once again. When it did, Charmander took note of two attributes to the creature. Firstly, it wasn't wearing any armor. It was as though it were confident enough that it wouldn't need it, that it could win any battle thrown its way. Secondly, the top of its head was round and shiny, perfect for breaking the backs of enemies with judgement too poor to realize just how powerful this thing was.

Before it could charge once again, vines wrapped around its legs. It swiveled, facing Chikorita, who was holding its legs with a force so powerful Charmander feared she would cause the beast to topple onto her, crushing her against its massive weight. It didn't happen though, for as soon as the creature began to charge for Chikorita, she too rolled out of its way. When she did this, it skidded to a halt on the wet grass, stopping in a hefty, awkward manner. This gave Chikorita enough time to run over to Charmander and tell him, "That's Senator Rampardos. He's one of the toughest warriors the Rock Nation's got."

Charmander could see why. Already the Senator was up and ready to keep fighting. Its (no, Charmander thought; no matter how beastly he looked, he was still male) little red eyes were small beacons reflecting the light of the approaching mid-morning, making them flare up like beads of fire. Its powerful legs took it towards Charmander and Chikorita, the former of which was readying for another dive, the latter of which was standing her ground.

Charmander soon saw why her confidence was so high. Shooting above the Rampardos, his flipper turned to silver, was Piplup. The flipper came down with a hollow thump against Rampardos' head. Chikorita's eyes widened, and she muttered "oh shit" as the Senator flew towards them. They were lucky to have jumped away just in time, Charmander feeling the air whip past him as he fell on the dewy grass.

Standing up, Charmander saw that the Senator was planning for yet another strike against them. Charmander failed to see why he was so adamant about killing them specifically. Would Rock Nation truly care all that much about them?

Then Charmander realized with dread what their presence implied. It indicated that Grass Nation may have made friends in Water and Fire, and that some kind of alliance was forming. If Rampardos could show this to the rest of the Nation, he would have a strong case for continuing the fight against Grass Nation, perhaps on a wider scale. Sure, Rock Nation would not be able to take all three (two, Charmander corrected himself grimly) Nations on by themselves. But what if Rampardos could use them as a way to get alliances himself?

A thought crossed his mind then, one pertaining to the Reapers. It was a thought so ridiculous that Charmander almost immediately discarded it. Almost.

Rampardos shook his head, as if all of his efforts were making him dizzy. He hadn't yet turned his head to throw his signature glare at the trainees before Torchic and Froakie launched themselves at him from either side. Froakie landed on the Senator's head, while Torchic latched onto the side of his face. It took all of two seconds for her to bury a claw into one of his eyes.

Rampardos roared. "Dammit!" he screamed, shaking his head back and forth, attempting to fling the trainees off, most likely hoping they would break their little backs on impact so he wouldn't have to waste the effort on stomping them out of existence. Froakie came off easily, being flung a foot higher into the air before blowing a few bubbles out of his mouth, keeping his fall from damaging him in the slightest. While Charmander could see rage flare up in Rampardos' one remaining eye, most of his focus was on Torchic, who refused to let go.

Charmander could see she was breathing heavily, gasping in fact, at the daring action she was now a part of. Charmander felt pity for her, but also pride. She was hard set in keeping her claw in the Senator's eye socket, as evident by the serious way in which she tried to convey herself. It wasn't all that convincing, but Charmander thought it would work in making the Rock Nation Senator think they were all much more confident than they truly were.

Rampardos was still screaming, his singular word the only one he'd spoken, his voice a shrill mess of unbridled rage. He was shaking his head back and forth, scattering droplets of blood upon the blades of grass. Torchic kept her talon inside his eye socket, even clenching it a bit to make the pain worse. Still he screamed, and still Charmander watched, struck paralyzed at the possibility that Torchic would be injured, knowing in his heart that if she was flung off he would go after her.

And that's just what he did. One of the head shakes had been too much for Torchic, as Rampardos was able to fling her off. Charmander saw her look of surprise as she soared through the air in front of him, and that look unfroze him. He dashed to her, running to a spot that he hoped, even prayed, she would land at the location he was at. Luck of luck, she did. He hurled himself at her, his tiny arms hugging her as she landed on him, knocking the air out of him. He had cushioned her fall, but in doing so had almost broken his back.

She laid on him for a moment, staring into his eyes, before getting off. Charmander felt a bit of a blush go into his cheeks, something he felt wasn't appropriate for the time. Even still, he was plagued by quick flashes of Braixen, the Pokémon at a cafeteria so long ago it felt like another life. He thought for a second about the way he had felt for her, about the childish crush-like feelings that had quickly dissipated after the battle between the Fire and Water Nations that had changed everything. And he realized in that moment that those same feelings were stirring, but this time…this time for _Torchic_.

No time to think about it, he realized; there were much more pressing matters to deal with. Rampardos was up and swinging his head at the trainees, his mouth in a growling grimace of rage. It was the kind of face Charmander had never seen before, even on the angriest Pokémon he'd known. It was as though something had been stolen from him. Then Charmander realized the eye, and saw a bloody tear leaking from the punctured appendage.

He was going to charge again, but before he could a voice from the battle spoke. "Hey, Rampardos!"

Rampardos turned, his eye widening as he saw an ally come from the scuffle around him. The bulky, brown and orange figure was striding confidently up to his brother in arms, a smile across his face, a fang jutting between the lips. When he saw his nose, Charmander knew who it was, who it had to be. Then he saw Chikorita's face pale, saw Froakie look at her with fear and concern, saw Piplup's eyes widen. This was him.

"So," Rhyperior said. "Let's get down to business."

The sound of the battle meant nothing. Charmander could hear it drowning out, as though everything that wasn't in the half-assed circle being made by the trainees and Rock Nation Senators. Rhyperior's eyes shifted across them, his eyes resting on Charmander for a half-second or so. Then he spoke in a soft, ragged voice, one Charmander hadn't expected from a hulking behemoth like him.

"I know why you're all here," he said. "I see you have dragged your friends into this, and have even convinced an entire Nation this is in their best interest. Of course, I wouldn't put it past you to keep a lot of it a secret. But…" He stopped, his eyes looking to Charmander's, seeing the confusion that must have been in them. "I'm sorry," he said, addressing Charmander alone. "You _are_ here for Turtwig. Right?"

Charmander found the courage to speak, and how he did was even beyond his comprehension. "Yes," he said. "We're here to save him."

Rhyperior smiled. "That's very brave of you," he said, like he actually meant it. Then his voice hardened. "But I'm afraid I can't let you do that. Not with everything we've been working so hard to accomplish."

His gaze shifted to Chikorita, and his eyes lit up with recognition. "You!" he said. "I know you! You're the trainee Venusaur sacrificed his life for. I'm truly sorry about your sister. If things had been different, if things were _simpler_ , I truly would not have done it. But don't worry; you will see her again soon. You can suffer for eternity with one another."

"Don't touch her!" Froakie shouted, getting in front of her. This public display of affection only served to amplify Charmander's stress. He could feel a headache coming on while his heart continued to pound blood through his body.

Rhyperior grinned. "Oh come now," he said. "There's no need for that. You'll be going with her too."

The Rock Nation Senator had raised his voice, had started to say something else to the entire group, when Meganium burst from the crowd of fighters. He pushed full-force with eight thick vines sprouting from the flower around his neck, shoving Rhyperior onto his side. Rampardos glared and prepared to charge, only to have his feet swept from under him.

Meganium turned to look at the group. "Go!" he shouted. "Find Turtwig! Keep him safe!"

Charmander locked eyes with the Senator for a moment. There was a dark humor about them, something Charmander couldn't fully read. He turned away, however, just as Rhyperior ordered Rampardos to pursue them, telling him to do so with a quick "After them!" Charmander turned and ran, his friends beside him as they pushed through the battle, blindly slashing at anything that was remotely rock-looking. Blood stained them as they ran through, pushing to the edge of the camp, their bodies streaked with the blood of their enemies. It was then that Charmander had a moment to think.

It was then he realized Meganium hadn't been wearing any armor.

The camp was smaller than he'd imagined. For an army the size of the one currently fighting against the Grass Nation, Charmander had assumed their camp would look like it could house at least five thousand. In reality, it looked like it could only house about five hundred. He guessed and assumed that the Rock Nation's situation was worse than they had originally perceived, only seeing their numbers and not realizing some of them may have been weak from cold nights sleeping outside.

The camp was eerily silent and empty, save for a few Rhydon guards that had noticed the group from afar. They stood guard at a single tent, and Charmander could only assume the ease with which they were able to do this was a trap. He and the others charged the guards. Charmander stabbed one of them in the belly with his small sword, rendering him incapacitated as Piplup, using the silver flipper trick Charmander still didn't know anything about, cut his throat. The other guard was taken out by Chikorita and Froakie, Chikorita tripping the guard with her vines while Froakie ended his life with a quick but effective water jet to the back of his neck.

At last, the moment of truth had arrived. Charmander stepped into the tent first, seeing the primitive nature of it and being a bit taken aback. A small wooden table sat in the center of it, alongside a small chair that would most likely be used for a third guard had one been present (though for all Charmander knew, he was still lurking around the camp, waiting for everyone to have their guards down). A map of the world was spread out on it, a few black X's marked. Charmander noticed with heart-pulsing worry that a black X had been drawn on both Fire Nation and Water Nation, right around where the two city's capitals would be.

But that didn't concern him as much as the thin-faced, malnourished figure sitting in a small, compartmentalized cage in the back of the tent. His face was sallow, even when he saw the five of them standing there. His eyes were dull and his beak-like mouth was flat. Charmander noticed the lack of symmetry involving the horn on top of his head, realizing with start that while a leaf was located on the left side of his head, where one should have been on his right was nothing but the brown of his horn.

"Turtwig!" Chikorita said, pushing her way past everyone in order to step closer into the tent.

Turtwig didn't respond with words, just looked hopelessly at Chikorita. Confused, Chikorita recanted her smile. "We're here to save you," she said.

Turtwig rolled his eyes. "You need a key," he rasped, his voice making it sound as though he hadn't drunk any water in a few days.

Chikorita nodded at Charmander, and Charmander stepped forward. He felt a light burning in his belly, something he occasionally noticed before he let a plume of fire out of his mouth. He breathed in deeply, then exhaled. The bars began to melt. Life flitted back into Turtwig's eyes, life that was found alongside a renewed sense of hope. And hope, Charmander realized, was just what they needed right now.

Then he felt as though he had been hit by a truck. The tent flew up, and sheer terror encapsulated Turtwig's face. It was the last thing Charmander saw before the world went dark. The last thing he realized was that Rampardos had caught up to them.


	57. Meganium I

**Meganium**

"After them!"

Rampardos stomped away, his head down as he charged at the disappearing small figures. Meganium stood where he was, still for only a second as he watched his daughter and her band of friends from other Nations run through the grass towards the Rock Nation camp. He prayed to Arceus that they would be safe, that they would make it to Turtwig before an ill fate befell them. It was all he could do, given how much he was risking doing what he knew had to be done.

Rhyperior turned towards him. His horn, a long, sharp drill jutting from his dark face, began to whirr. It spun threateningly closer as the larger, heavier, and more bumbling Senator began to prepare for attack. "Oh, you dumb son of a bitch," he said. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

Meganium had to suppress a smile.

With a deep battle cry, Rhyprior swung his trunk-sized arm at Meganium. Meganium avoided it swiftly, the fingers of the arm nearly catching him by the throat. He seized up and, with all his strength, summoned as many vines as he could from the pink flower around his neck. Rhyperior stumbled as the green whips wrapped around him, green tentacles of a creature unwilling to let go of its prey. He lurched forward, then backward, then to the left. Upon this last lurch, he stumbled, his body falling slowly to the grass below, crashing with a hard thump. It was a thump Meganium had never expected to hear against grass so soft, and for a moment the weight of his enemy, the actual, physical weight, made him nervous.

But this wasn't a time to let his nerves get the better of him. Now was the time for action. Now was the time for answers. And if his suspicions were proved correct, then what he'd decided to do would not be in vain. But he had to go about it in a way that didn't implicate him. In a way that didn't make them come after Chikorita.

"Why do you want Turtwig so badly?" Meganium demanded.

Rhyperior, despite his position as a Grass Nation prisoner, chuckled. "You _really_ have no idea what you're getting into."

Meganium gasped as Rhyperior quickly wrapped his arms around his opponent's vines and pulled. The Grass Nation Senator began to descend to the ground, his face just inches from Rhyperior's still-whirring horn. He pulled his neck muscles to the right, willing his skull a safe passage to the ground. Pain ripped through the left side of his head as the vibrating horn grazed his temple. He could feel the blood tricking down his left cheek as he stood up, backing away and trying to untie his vines from his enemy.

No use. Rhyperior had them in his grasp, and wasn't about to let go. To lose the vines would also mean Meganium would have one less weapon to defend himself, and in a battlefield as wild and wired-up as this one, it would be a death sentence. Rhyperior knew this, knew it enough to keep pulling the vines, his raw strength dragging Meganium further and further towards that dreaded horn. The whirring was getting louder, continuing to tease at the incoming inevitability of death, something Meganium prayed wouldn't happen. At least, not until he knew the truth.

"What do you want with Torterra's son?" Meganium demanded.

Whether it was the authority in his voice or the inevitability Rhyperior saw, Meganium didn't know. But at the mention of Torterra's name, Rhyperior had stopped. He locked eyes with Meganium, and began to speak in a firm, calm manner. "Torterra is not how you think, Meganium. He is harboring a secret, something that could destroy everything my allies and I have been working so hard to accomplish. Many will have to die, and he will have to die, for this to become a reality. But he knows things about this world, about this war, that you just don't."

Meganium had to stifle yet another bout of laughter. All Torterra knew was the surface war, not the war between the Wardens and Reapers that was going on behind the scenes. He would have confided in his friend, yes, but he wouldn't have wanted him to be in any danger. And he most certainly did not want Torterra's _son_ to end up in a predicament involving the monstrous Reapers. Yet here they were, and Meganium already knew exactly why this was happening.

A green flash pierced his vision, one that knocked Rhyperior to the right a bit. The distraction was quick, but it was just quick enough for Meganium to regain himself, loosening the vines around Rhyperior. He turned to see a Sceptile warrior watching the stronger, taller, and buffer Rock Nation Senator, challenge in his gaze. Meganium felt alarm go through him, an alarm that must have attracted the Sceptile's gaze, for it fell upon him. It was that exchange of glances, an accident that never should have happened, that doomed the poor soldier to die.

As if he'd materialized out of thin air, Rampardos charged into the Sceptile. His eyes widened as he realized what was happening, his face contorting in a mixture of pain and fear as a shattering rang out from within his body. Like a ragdoll he flew through the sky, his bones nothing more than floating shards within his muscles and blood. He slumped to the grassland, his body lying motionless. Meganium hadn't needed to see any crimson to know that this soldier had given his life for him.

Rampardos stood still, glancing back and forth once between Rhyperior and Meganium before settling his eyes on his comrade. He looked like a dog, the way he was awaiting orders from the Rock Nation's Head War Strategist. It was typical, really, for even Senators to rally behind either the leader of the Senate or the War Strategist during battle. But Rampardos' vision was too loyal, like he was nothing but a tool of the Rock Nation and knew it.

It made Meganium a bit sick, knowing how much he could and would do to prove his loyalty to his Nation.

Rhyperior nodded. Rampardos didn't even prepare himself. His body lurched forward, and for a second Meganium could see the death of his daughter, clear in his mind's eye. Rhyperior had drilled a clean little hole through Bayleef's neck, where a single dot of blood had spilled out. When he'd witnessed it, the lack of drama had taken him by surprise. His daughter's screaming had stopped abruptly, like someone had cut the air out of her vocal cords. It had been so small and insignificant, like in the blink of an eye she was gone.

He had hoped for a death like that. He had hoped that when he'd gotten the confirmation that he needed, that when Rhyperior admitted the Reapers thought Torterra was a Warden and was one of the Guardians of the Emerald, that the Reapers thought Turtwig also harbored that power because of the passing down of heir of guardianship at birth, when Rhyperior had admitted all of it to be true, Meganium had hoped for a death like his daughter's. But now, now it would be impossible. Now he would only have to hope that it wouldn't hurt when Rampardos bowled him over.

But it did hurt. It hurt worse than any pain he could have imagined. Even the damage he'd suffered in battle the short few weeks ago when he thought he'd lost both his daughters didn't compare to the insurmountable amount of pain he felt when Rampardos rammed into him and sent his body a foot or so into the air. He could feel his bones cracking, like a trainee crunching up a ball of aluminum foil to play with. He was the foil, then, wasn't he? Yes, he was, and they didn't even realize it yet.

He crashed in a heap. Raising his neck, Meganium could see Rhyperior approaching him, his horn still whirring, a smile stretching across his lips. Even a little fang was popping out on the side, showing just how happy he really was. Meganium tried to stand, but it was no use. His legs were like elastics beneath him, useless and rubbery. Not to mention the pain, the deep, inner pain that made his front legs ache worse than they ever had in his life. His back legs were a different story; he couldn't feel them at all.

He laid his head on the ground, praying to Arceus. He knew it would be of no use to pray for his safety, which was long gone now. But he did pray for Chikorita's safety. He prayed for her, and for Charmander. For Torchic, for Piplup. And, even though he wasn't one of them, he even prayed for Froakie. He prayed they would make it out of the camp with Turtwig alive, Turtwig who didn't understand why he'd been captured. Turtwig, who didn't know that it was not him that was the heir to guardianship of the Emerald, but Chikorita, daughter of Meganium, Guardian of the Warriors Emerald. Her and the others. Two fire. One water. One grass.

As it was in the beginning, it would be in the end.

Meganium felt his neck being pulled back. His eyes lifted off the ground, his head straight out, looking out at the grassy field in front of him. The sky burnt his back a bit with strong rays, rays that were almost fully overshadowed by Rhyperior's gigantic figure. In front of Meganium was Rampardos, who stared at him with glaring, satisfied red eyes.

He could suppress the laughter no longer. It came out in a wave of calmness, so calm that it almost scared him. His enemies, meanwhile, looked confused. At least, Rampardos did, and the gaze he shot behind Meganium told him Rhyperior was just as befuddled. Meganium took a deep breath and held it down once again. There were a few moments of silence. Then, Rhyperior's voice: "Are you finished?"

"You will never win," Meganium replied, stoic. He stared directly into Rampardos' eyes. The anger and confusion in that scarlet stare was all he needed to keep his laughter at bay. "You will never bring Him back. When the day of finality comes, the Wardens will crush you."

Rampardos' eyes widened. Meganium smirked, continued. "You can kill me here, but it will not matter. We have all that we need to destroy you. We have the Emerald. We have the Guardians. And we have the means to bring back the weapon you can never yield."

Fear. Fear was the last thing Meganium saw in Rampardos' eyes.

Satisfaction. Satisfaction was the last thing Meganum felt as Rhyperior stomped on his neck, snapping it, sending his world into a swirl of blackness.


	58. Chikorita X

**Chikorita**

It was happening again. She was waking up, fearful and afraid, because of the Rock Nation. She blinked her eyes open, feeling a pulsing in her head, a headache that screamed at her, one that would only be relieved if she fell back to sleep. But she understood what sleep would do. It would drag her into the depth of a dark she couldn't afford to be in right now. Not with the looming figure she couldn't recognize standing over her, watching her with an intense, red stare that was highlighted by the shafts of sunlight gleaming from the tent flap.

She woke up all at once then, the thought of Froakie pulling her out of her stupor. She knew it was selfish to be thinking of him and only him at a time when all of her friends were in danger, but she couldn't help it. She felt something for him she thought she would never be able to feel for another Pokémon, something that compelled her and drove her forward. A real companionship, a connection that could never be broken. Which was why she nearly screamed when she glanced to her right and saw him.

He was tied up, his hands bound behind him and his feet bound in front of him. He was breathing hard, like he'd just run a hundred miles to get to the hell they were all currently suffering in. A large gash ran from the left side of his head down to his right eye, and blood was still welling from it. Whether he'd gotten it from when they'd all been barreled over in the tent by the unseen force or he'd been beaten after the fact, Chikorita didn't know. All she knew was that her blood was boiling at the sight of it.

She looked at the others, seeing Charmander beside her, staring defiantly up at the towering figure above them. He too was bound, although a gag had been placed over his mouth, presumably to stop him from spitting fire at his ropes or anyone else's in an attempt to free them. Beyond him was Torchic, who was glaring at the figure as well, a gag over her mouth just like Charmander's. Her anger was a bit more pronounced than Charmander's, although Chikorita was stunned by how similar the look in their eyes was as they stared at their captor. She turned back towards Froakie, focusing beyond his bleeding head and seeing Turtwig, shaken but not seriously injured, breathing in and out shakily.

Piplup was the only one still unconscious, his head hanging low beside Turtwig and his flippers tied to his sides. Chikorita hoped he would wake up soon, and that he would be able to do what he'd done a few times now with his flipper; turn it silver, silver so that it could break through anything. She didn't think she had to question where such a power came from, especially in the desperate situations he had utilized it in, but she did make a mental note of it in the back of her mind to ask him about it at a later time. For right now, though, all she could do was hope they were going to make it out of this alive.

She stared around the tent, noting it was a different one than the one Turtwig had been in. There was a wooden table in the tent much like the last one, although this one was at least four times larger. Instead of chairs, long benches were set up on either of the longer sides of the table, perfect for a group of about a dozen soldiers or so to sit down and either make battle plans or eat lunch. At the thought of lunch, Chikorita's eyes were drawn to a few heafty-looking barrels in the left corner of the tent. One of the barrels was lidless and contained an assortment of foods. Beside them was a chest, a chest Chikorita instinctively assumed was for weaponry and armor. It felt primitive, not holding such objects in vehicles, but for a Rock Nation mission like this, and for this setting, it felt right.

This tent was very far removed from Turtwig's because this wasn't a place for prisoners; this was a place for warriors.

Her gaze drifted up to her captor, who looked more like a large stone with a stone head carved into it than anything else. In other circumstances, this rock with stubby arms and stubby legs with a head in the middle would have been humorous. But the glaring red eyes took all potential laughter out of the situation. The stoic nature of this beast was on par with Charmander's face, which only made Chikorita fear that, if he looked at the Fire Nation trainee for long enough, he wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

Erasing the thought of one of her companions dying from her mind, Chikorita continued to stare at the Rock Nation warrior. He stared back, his gaze never faltering from hers. She was the first to look down, and when she looked back up she detected no pleasure, nor anger, nor _anything_ from the Rock Nation soldier's short yet intimidating game with her. Her heart raced as she wondered what they were waiting for. Perhaps for Piplup to wake up, but who knew when that would be.

"Wh-?" She stopped, the question stuck in her throat, as she saw Charmander's head whip around out of the corner of her eye. She turned towards him, and he shook his head, alarm now taking over his eyes. He leaned to the right and nodded at something behind her. She turned, looking, seeing only the deep, bleeding slash on Froakie's head. At once she understood, and fighting the tears that were now threatening to spill over, she nodded. Charmander's eyes glowed with sympathy, and it forced her to bite her lower lip to hold them in her eyelids.

The flap to the tent rustled as a smaller, rugged-looking figure came in. It was perhaps a foot and a half shorter than the warrior in the tent, but it had a younger-looking face that indicated to her that it was a Rock Nation trainee. The color scheme proved to her something else as well; this wasn't just any Rock Nation trainee. This was Senator Rampardos' child. The thought that something as insane as that had fathered a child filled her with dread.

"Senator Golem!" the young soldier-to-be addressed the guard. "They're back."

"Thank you, Cranidos," the guard, Senator Golem, said to the young trainee. "You may go."

Cranidos nodded, then glanced once at the prisoners. His eyes locked with Chikorita's for a moment, although she could not tell what he was thinking as he turned and lifted the tent flap, leaving. Not a moment after he'd taken his passage, the flap flew up again. Rhyperior ducked into the tent, followed by the bumbling figure of Cranidos' father, Rampardos. Golem stepped back and allowed the two other senators to glance at the prisoners.

Rhyperior made the first comment, flicking his finger at Froakie. "What happened to him?" he demanded.

"You told me to silence them if they spoke," Golem growled. "So I did."

"Yeah, but I didn't mean _kill_ them."

"So what?" Golem challenged. "He's not one of the ones we want anyway."

Chikorita's heart was beating faster. Want? Why did the Rock Nation want them in the first place? She silenced her mind before the questions could flood her. It was best for her to be as observant as possible, especially in a situation like this where she knew one wrong move would send Rhyperior's drill through her chest. She quieted her flustered mind, but she did not quit her observant gaze.

Rhyperior had ignored Golem's comment and was staring at the lineup of trainees in front of him. His gaze rested on Piplup this time, and he walked over to him. Chikorita felt fear go through every captive, even heard a little squeak (yes, she ascertained, a desperate squeak) come from Charmander as he silenced what would have been a cry of anguish.

Rhyperior's fingers came to together. He flicked the side of Piplup's head a few times. "Hey," he said. "Wake up. We need you alive for this."

Piplup groggily rose. "What?" he asked, confusion on his face. Then his eyes locked with Rhyperior's, and they widened. "Shit," he whispered.

A smile spread across Rhyperior's face. "Couldn't have summarized this situation better myself," he said, backing away from Piplup, his eyes gazing across all the scared, tired, and desperate faces in front of him. "This whole thing really was shit. I mean, we thought we were only going to get one of you. But then, as though He was with us the whole time, you all come flocking in!"

Upon mention of "He," Chikorita felt cold. She could discern from his tone that, somehow, he wasn't talking about Arceus. There was something else in there, something that was summarized by the "as though" in his sentence. As though He was with us the whole time. But any Pokémon knew that Arceus, according to many, was with everyone all the time. He watched over everyone's mistakes, guided them when they needed it, and was overall a being worthy of recognition. She didn't know why this "He" Rhyperior was talking about struck her in a different way than Arceus. It was just instinct.

Rhyperior was quiet for a few moments as he walked around. Then he looked at them all. "Ah, what the hell," he said. "You all probably know what's going on already. Did they tell you?" Rhyperior was addressing Chikorita, and her heart skipped a beat as she laid eyes on the monster that had taken her sister from her. "My gut says yes, but your eyes…your eyes tell me you haven't got the slightest idea what you've stumbled into."

Rhyperior clapped his hands together, but instead of the usual high-pitched snap that would usually follow a clap, it was more of a rumble, like his hands were the plates of the world, rubbing against one another and causing an earthquake. "I'll tell you what? I'm a nice enough guy that I'm willing to offer you all a little bit of closure before you blink out of this world, or come to serve a higher purpose, depending on who you are. Sound fair enough?"

The trainees remained silent.

"Okay," Rhyperior said. "It sounds fair." His attention was back on Chikorita alone, and when he spoke she knew he was talking to her. "And I think after everything I've done to you and your family, the least I can do is give you peace before you die."

The mock sympathy in his voice and eyes made Chikorita freeze up. Where was her father?

"You see," Rhyperior said, "you've been dragged into something bigger than yourselves. Something that just oozes with interest, I can see. We've had our correspondents in Water Nation let us in on what happened there, as well as how you two Fire Nation trainees were there. It was like striking gold. Three of the four trainees we needed all in the same place. And you, Chikorita. You were there to lead them right to us. You thought that maybe Grass Nation hadn't been compromised, and you were right. One hundred percent of the way."

Rhyperior had held a grin on his face the whole time he'd been speaking. It faltered here, morphing into a sadness just as false as his previous sympathy. "But you were also wrong. You were wrong because by a stroke of luck, you managed to get your friends into our hands. You've also brought us this lovely specimen." He pointed at Froakie, and fear climbed her throat. "Now _he_ is interesting. Where did he come from?"

Chikorita remained silent. Rhyperior rolled his eyes. "It's alright," he reassured her. "Golem's not gonna hurt you as long as you tell us what you know about him. Now, anyone else talks, and I can't promise that he'll take your head off."

Chikorita struggled to find her voice. Her inner voice was wailing in a pit of darkness, a darkness that encased her mind so brutally that she was unable to understand just how deep the cavern she'd stumbled into was. Nonetheless, she pulled herself out, and whether it was temporary or not didn't matter for the moment.

"He's a Water Nation trainee," she said. "He escaped with us after…after everything happened."

Rhyperior looked satisfied. "Alright," he said. "So that settles it."

Rhyperior walked over to him. His horn began to make its whirring sound. Chikrotia was unable to suppress her shout. "Stop! Please!"

Rhyperior ignored her. He came closer to Froakie, bending down so he could be at eye level with him. Froakie stared at him, and Chikorita saw such hate in his eyes that she knew what she felt in her heart was true. The horn was getting closer, the whirring that would soon take him away, if only the words could jump out of her throat, words that she knew wouldn't save him but words she had to say before he died.

"I love him!"

Rhyperior paused. Chikorita, feeling vain and wild hope, wanted him to turn away, wanted him to stop the whirring. As though her thoughts had penetrated his mind, the whirring did stop. Froakie's hate began to falter, his tightened face sagging into a frown of despair for only a moment. But he kept his anger at the forefront, not letting anyone see the fear below the surface. Chikorita only knew then just how much she truly, undeniably loved him.

Rhyperior stood up and sighed. "Fine," he said. "I'll kill you first."

Chikorita felt her heart drop. To die, to truly know what it was like to feel the cold embrace of the end, filled her with insurmountable dread. To know that the end was coming, to know that everything was falling apart, to fully understand that death was inevitable for her in this very moment, was something she never thought she'd have to prepare herself for. But it was coming, and there would be no stopping the whirring horn from taking her into the unknown that awaited her after this plane of existence.

But the whirring wasn't happening. Rhyperior stared at her hard, almost as if he were wondering if he should do something or not. Her heart leapt with logic-absent hope. Perhaps he would reconsider his threat and let her live. Let them all live, so they could go on and leave the Rock Nation to whatever it was they wanted to do. Although she knew in her heart it was impossible, that they would not be leaving this camp alive, she still had to hold out hope that somehow they would get out of this.

Rhyperior stood up, his figure much larger than Golem's so much so that he didn't just loom; he _oppressed._ Chikorita could almost feel the air around her getting stuffy with his presence. He walked away from the lineup, moving towards the front of the tent. "I'll let you say goodbye," he said. "After everything I've taken from you, you deserve that much, at least."

Chikorita didn't understand what he was talking about. Not at first. Then it came to her, the conflict she and the rest of them had left behind in order to rescue Turtwig. Her heart pounded with anxiety, with the hopeless hope against it all that it wasn't true, that she wasn't going to have to go through the loss all over again. But then the Rock Nation Senator dragged him into the tent, and she couldn't suppress the moan of mourning that escaped her.

Rhyperior held Meganium's body by the neck. He gripped in in a tight vice, a vice that would have been strong enough to break it. He was battered and bruised, but he didn't look seriously injured from the outside. Rhyperior set him down with a gentleness that made Chikorita want to vomit. His neck, she saw, truly was mangled and twisted, the odd angle she knew had ended his life. His eyes were closed, a king gesture, but not nearly kind enough to make up for what the sick bastard had done to him.

She couldn't take her eyes from his corpse. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real. She'd just gotten him back, just found his smile again, a smile she never thought she'd look upon for the rest of her life, ripped from her again by the same Pokémon, the same son of a bitch that drilled a hole through her sister's throat, the same one that had murdered Senator Venusaur, that had kidnapped Turtwig, that now had them hostage, he'd taken everything from her, taking, taking, taking, and now her father, lying limp on the ground of this tent, nothing but a corpse, dishonored in death by laying in the dirt.

Rhyperior had been staring at her in mock sorrow. Now real surprise was on his face. "Woah," he said. "What the hell?"

Chikorita felt rage bubbling inside her as she looked at her father's corpse. The grief had been momentary, she realized, lost to the idea that he had been dead long ago. Now it was rage and blame that simmered in her blood, sending her mind into a frenzy of blank, uncontrollable hatred. She glared up at Rhyperior. "You killed him," she said, and the sheer power in her voice not only surprised her, but made the Rock Nation Senator step back as well.

"Oh shit," he said. "Oh shit, it was you!"

She didn't know what that meant, and she didn't care. All she knew was that her father, the last remaining family she had, the one she had just gotten back yesterday, the one that had been dead for so long, was lying in the dirt, desecrated by the horrid savages she was not glaring at, that now had her and her friend's captive. She didn't care for their fear. She didn't care that they were backing away from her, all of them. She didn't care that Rampardos looked ready to charge her, his foot scraping the ground and a huff escaping him. She only cared about what they had done to her and what she was going to do to them.

"You _killed him!_ " she screeched, and in that moment she was no longer herself.

Vines tinged in a glowing green light ripped out of her neck and wrapped around the three figures in the tent. Golem didn't last long, escaping quickly by curling into a ball, the vines unable to find a good hold on him. Rampardos and Rhyperior weren't as lucky. Chikorita tightened two vines around Rampardos' throat, holding him in midair with strength she didn't even know she was capable of controlling. Rhyperior was held down by more vines, six in total, one for each arm, one for each leg, one for his throat, and one for his horn.

" _YOU KILLED HIM!"_ Chikorita shouted. She screamed in wordless rage, her throat burning as her scream of anger echoed through the tent. She could feel the ground shaking beneath her, could feel everything moving as though an earthquake had come to their aid. She heard what sounded like the light sound of metal slashing something. She glanced over for a moment to see Piplup had freed himself and was set to work freeing everyone else, starting with Turtwig who was closest. His attention was not entirely on the other captives, though; he was watching her with awe.

Something, the wind or the earthquake, took the tent away. One moment it was there, the next it had lifted off, fluttering into the breeze, nothing but useless material. It didn't stop her from holding them, her prisoners now, victims that would feel more than what she felt, worse than what she felt.

She realized then, with a mixture of fright and sick satisfaction, that she wouldn't be letting either of them out alive.

" _YOU FUCKING KILLED HIM!_ "

All at once the vines moved in the directions she wanted them to. The vines around Rampardos' neck tightened, were warped by her movement, and, holding on, twisted around in a swift motion. Rampardos' eyes were wide with shock as his neck was twisted just past his shoulder. A trickle of blood ran down from between the behemoth's lips. Staining his chin and the ground once he crashed to it. A warrior such as this, if he hadn't done what he had done, may have died proud, with ferocity in his eyes. Instead he died with a cowardly gape.

Unlike his counterpart, Rhyperior fought back. He pulled at the vines on his arms just as they began to tighten around him. When he did this, Chikorita, despite her newfound strength, flew across the ground towards him. She was under him, fear gripping her, but the rage was too intense for her to let go. Despite his position, enwrapped in her vines, the Rock Nation Senator still found the moxie to grin with victory.

Then he was screaming, and he flailed back. A moment of clarity came over Chikorita as she realized that, with his weight, his falling on her vines would keep her stuck to him long enough that he would end up killing her as well. She let go, unwrapping him. The earthquake below her suddenly ceased, and she felt a wave of dizziness overcome her. _I did that,_ she realized, fear and excitement making her heart pound hard against her chest. _I did that._

She looked up, searching for the source of Rhyperior's torment. She found it on his face; Piplup. He had launched himself into the air during Chikorita's skirmish with the Senator, and now had his silver flipper buried in his eye. When he saw that Chikorita was safe, he yanked it out and prepared to jump away from the Senator. She saw him squat, saw him lift into the air, then felt horror weigh on her heart as Rhyperior's hand wrapped around the Water Nation trainee. Around her friend.

The rage returned in a swift, unrelenting current, one that did not ebb and flow, only engulfed her with a need for vengeance. She watched as Rhyperior's hand curled around Piplup's body, as the whirring began, as her friend, yes, her _friend_ , was dragged closer and closer to the orphan-maker. She watched, but she was not still. Vines, uncontrollable, seething with minds of their own hell-bent on saving her father from a vain death, lashed out at Rhyperior. They caught his horn, and for a moment Chikorita thought they would be ripped apart by the roaring weapon on his face. But they were not; they held still. It was something about the green glow that kept them from harm.

She curled them around the horn, the whirring abruptly stopping. Rhyperior stared at his nose with the one eye he had left, although Chikorita could see sickening movement in the socket that had been torn to shreds. The dread, fear, and anger in his remaining eye was enough to let Chikorita know that she was doing the right thing, that this monster deserved any and all punishment she could inflict on him for what he'd done to her father. To her sister. To the Grass Nation. To her.

She tightened the vines. Rhyperior released Piplup who jumped away, and stood back and watched, the awe in his eyes unable to be concealed. Chikorita could feel the strength of anger pouring through her as she strained the glowing vines. Someone was screaming, someone whose rage was echoing across the mid-morning, finding a way into her ears. It took her a moment to realize it was her.

There was one small cracking sound at first. Then, like a firework, it cracked, a loud popping sound and a cry of indignation and pain. The horn broke apart, thick, rock-like skin mixed with an outpouring of blood as the vines fell against one another. The horn, the orphan-maker that had taken so much from Chikorita, now lay in pieces on Rhyperior's chest.

"You bitch!" he roared.

"Look out!"

Chikorita turned at the sound of Charmander's voice, but she wasn't able to stop it. She felt a shove on her left side, felt the vines instinctively retract into her body as she fell. She turned her head up, seeing Rampardos' rage-filled eyes above her. Except Rampardos was dead, and the face she stared into was younger, and the eyes had more tears in them than Rampardos probably ever spilled in his life.

"You killed him!" Cranidos roared. Chikorita had to stifle a shiver of realization. In the heat of the moment of war, it didn't matter. But off the battlefield…what would she think of herself then?

Cranidos looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening quickly before he jumped back, avoiding a plume of fire that was a bit too close for Chikorita's comfort. She sat up, watching as Charmander and Torchic came up from her left, as they chased after Cranidos who, having longer legs than both of them combined, outran them deeper into the camp. They looked ready to chase after him, ready to end his life just as she'd ended Rampardos'. But where he was leading them was a mystery. Chikorita couldn't risk losing anyone else today.

"Stop!" she shouted. Charmander and Torchic looked at her. Charmander's face was bewildered, but Torchic's was less so. "He might be leading you into a trap," Torchic explained. "Just let him go."

Charmander stared after Cranidos for a moment, and in that moment Chikorita wondered if he really would just let him go for what had happened. The he sighed and shook his head. Torchic nodded and, staying close to him, the two of them walked over to Chikorita.

Chikorita sat up, watching as she realized they were all walking over to her. Froakie's head was still bleeding, although she saw that the gash was not as deep as she'd originally thought it had been. He would live, and she couldn't stop beaming inside about that prospect. Charmander and Torchic looked ready to fight, and given the loss they'd gone through because of their parents' presumed deaths, Chikorita felt immense gratefulness that they were willing to fight with her. Turtwig stayed a bit behind, his coy behavior and downcast eyes making Chikorita want to walk over and comfort him. But this was stalled by Piplup, who walked up with a flipper covered in Rhyperior's blood.

"When that trainee, Cranidos I think his name was, when he knocked you down Rhyperior lumbered away." Piplup looked over to where Rhyperior had once been laying. "I didn't think someone that large could move so fast."

Chikorita almost chuckled at this, but the weight of her father's death still lingered in her mind. It was too early for humor. She was too far into mourning.

"You guys heard what he said, right?" Piplup continued. "Water Nation. He's a damn Reaper, and I'd guess Rampardos and Golem were Reapers too. Son of a _bitch_ , what did he want with us? What did he mean, that Chikorita and Froakie weren't significant in all of this? More importantly," and this time Piplup's gaze swiveled to Chikorita, "what the hell happened to you? Your whole body was glowing green, and those vines…it was like you'd gotten twenty times stronger!"

Charmander put an arm on Piplup's shoulder. "The questions can wait," he said.

"But-" Piplup protested. Then his eye caught something across the camp. Chikorita turned, seeing the body of her father, and in that instant the grief flooded her. She heard a small "oh, shit" from Piplup before she burst into tears. The world became a blur as it all weighed down on her, as she lost her father all over again, just as she had lost him so long ago when she lay in a cave of strangers who called themselves Wardens. Never again would she hear his voice. Never again would she have someone she could call her father.

A realization came to her, so awful that she thought it couldn't possibly be true. Her father hadn't been wearing any armor. She'd thought nothing of it before, not with the battle ensuing so soon, but now that she could see him, see his lifeless body desecrated by the dirt, a horrid, entirely plausible truth seeped into her mind. _Did my dad_ want _to die today?_

The possibility only made her cry harder. She felt a touch on her left, and looked into the blurred face of the Pokémon she loved. She could feel it now, the truth and the depth of it as he held her close. And when he tightened his grip, she knew she would never leave her. When everyone surrounded her and offered condolences she knew she wouldn't have to face her grief alone this time. And when the horde of Grass Nation soldiers broke into the camp, fighting off the last of the Rock Nation stragglers, Chikorita felt a change within her.

Her father was lost forever, but she could still find a home.


	59. Froakie IV

**Froakie**

The end of the battle had been such a blur that Froakie could barely remember it. He could remember the sea of Grass Nation troops swarming into the camp. He could hear the remnants of the Rock Nation shouting, over and over, "Retreat!" as they were picked off one by one. He could see Senator Golem (and this was quite clear in his memory) being overwhelmed by soldiers, his blood spilling on the battlefield. He'd seen a warrior, one with roses for hands, heard her shout at the attacking soldiers to take him alive for questioning. He saw the Grass Nation trainee they had been separated from in the thick of the battle, Nuzleaf, slashing at his enemies, a small cut underneath his left eye dripping blood as he fought. He could feel bodies surrounding them, lifting him off, his blood falling to the ground and the realization dawning on him; he could die right there.

He was stuck in that haze for a while, drifting. All he could think about was Chikorita and Piplup, of getting out of this stupor she he could make sure they were alright. Charmander and Torchic were important to him too, of course, but the brotherly bond he had with his Water Nation comrade was something that could never be broken. And Chikorita…

Well, he loved her.

When she'd said it in the tent he hadn't known what to think. But knowing what he knew now, understanding the loss she had suffered and the way she dealt with it, made his heart burn for her. He felt as though he could do anything for her. Even die. They were young, he understood that, but maybe it was the older generation that didn't understand how their connection transcended Nations. Was it truly foolish to believe they couldn't be together, after everything they had been through? Froakie didn't think so. He _knew_ he would be with Chikorita until the day he died. He just hoped, prayed, that today wouldn't be that day.

The real world came back to him in a jolt. He nearly jumped up out of the bed he was in, a bed in an unfamiliar place. He could feel a shout in his throat, but he was hushed by someone close by. He turned his head to his left, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Chikorita standing above him. Her face was curled in a smile and tears were in the corners of her eyes. In that moment he wanted to hug her, to kiss her, to tell her that she wasn't going to lose him and that he was so sorry about what happened to her father. But the shapes beyond her prevented him from doing that. He didn't resent it, but he felt a tug of sorrow on his heart that he couldn't wipe her tears away.

Piplup was looking down at him on the other side, as if his thoughts of the two of them had led to their projections outside his brain. He smiled up at his old friend, and saw that his cheeks were wet. "Hey," he said, finding his voice. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"

Piplup sighed. "You lost a lot of blood," he said. "I just…we didn't know your wound wasn't really that deep." He chuckled, and Froakie felt the shock of it tingle him. Only about three weeks ago Piplup had been in a depressive state, one Froakie was sure would be strengthened by the loss of the Water Nation and his father. But ever since his encounter with the Gabite, he had slowly been lifted from that stupor, even making a few humorous remarks at times. Froakie had noticed, but it wasn't until he saw his friend's smile, something he thought he would never see genuinely plastered on his face every again, did he realize how much he'd changed.

He sat up and no one pushed him down. He could feel the reality of the world swimming back to him. There was a door directly in front of him, and he realized with a start that he was lying in Chikorita's bed. He suppressed the blush that was crawling into his cheeks, hoping that no one noticed it. The door was open, and outside he could see Charmander and Torchic walking in. Charmander didn't look as tearful as the two by the bedside, but he did look relieved. Torchic held his gaze, her eyes filled with a similar state of relief. Even Fire Nation was worried about him, and for that Froakie couldn't suppress a chuckle.

Then a fifth figure walked in, this one sallow-faced yet holding the ghost of a thankful smile on his lips. Turtwig had a few cuts on his cheeks, but other than those minor injuries he seemed unscathed by the hell he'd been through in the past few days. His eyes didn't even betray a hint of trauma from his time as a Rock Nation prisoner, but Froakie knew that sometimes things like that took time. Took nightmares, perhaps. He just hoped that whoever would be there for Turtwig would understand the suffering he would be subjected to by his memories.

"Thank Arceus," Charmander breathed. "We were worried for a little while."

Froakie could feel renewed strength flowing back into him. He swung his feet off the bed on Chikorita's side. She backed away, a bit of shock crossing her face although she said nothing. Froakie stood, wobbled for just a moment, and then was able to hold himself up on his own. He looked over at the other side of the bed, where Piplup stood. His old friend smiled back, his beam lighting up Froakie's world more than any sun he could ask for could. "Thank Arceus," Froakie said. Piplup said nothing back. His smile still held.

A lumbering figure appeared in the doorway. At first the brown skin on it made Froakie's heart freeze up with dread. The memories of the shared color of the Rock Nation drowned out all sense for only a moment, a moment that passed without conflict. The shape, he realized, was Grass Nation's Senator Torterra, Turtwig's father. Upon his arrival, Froakie noticed Turtwig back away from the door, almost fearful. Froakie didn't say anything, nor did he gauge any of his friend's reactions to see if they had noticed the odd behavior from the trainee as well.

"He's awake," Torterra grunted. "Good. Come out now, everyone. I have something to discuss with all of you."

Froakie held back a biting remark that was sitting on the tip of his tongue. Not only had he been injured, and not only had the Senator's son just come back from days of being a prisoner, but Chikorita had just lost her father. The Senator's callousness filled Froakie with an instinctual hatred for him, but he kept his tongue tied and followed the others out of the room and into the kitchen where Meganium had fed them what had felt like centuries ago. In reality, it had been less than twenty-four hours since he'd first stepped foot in this house. The thought filled him with a sense of surrealism that weighed down on him and made him feel exhausted.

They walked slowly behind the lumbering figure, who turned as soon as he had the room. Given his size, Froakie was surprised to see he had been able to fit in the house in the first place. Then he looked over to where the door had been, and was shocked to see a hole had been cut into the wall. Torterra had apparently followed his gaze, as he said, "We're making a bigger door so I'll be able to fit in here. We're also going to have guards posted outside at all times, to make sure no one leaves unsupervised."

Froakie had nearly forgotten the deal the Grass Nation had made the day before. The deal that turned him and Piplup and the Fire Nation trainees into nothing more than pawns for political gain. He could feel anger boiling up inside him at the thought that, someday soon, he could be used against his own Nation for the propping up of power of another. The thought filled him with a sick dread that made him feel ashamed, made him feel as though he were betraying the memory of his father by being subjected to the game of power these older Pokémon played against one another. Not to mention, there was another war going on, one that encompassed all Nations, a war that had a secrecy that only served to frustrate him and make him hate those involved, those who had taken his home and his family away from him.

Torterra continued. "Turtwig and I will be staying here, in…in Meganium's room." Here Torterra did falter, and for a moment his eyes softened to the point where Froakie was concerned the gigantic Senator would burst into tears. But those same eyes hardened quickly, and his gaze was swept back over the trainees before him. "The four of you here that are not from Grass Nation will sleep in Bayleef's bedroom. Chikorita, I don't see any reason why you shouldn't sleep in your own bed."

Froakie felt his heart race at the prospect of being able to sneak into Chikorita's room to be alone with her. He wanted to do everything in his power to comfort her after the day's events, and the night would be the perfect opportunity to hold her close. He kept his face stoic while Torterra spoke, however, ensuring that his hopes would stay as secretive as they could for as long as possible.

"All six of you will begin supervised training tomorrow," he explained. "I understand that you are shaken, and that some of you are injured, both inside and outside. But that does not mean your training can just stop. It's the mid-afternoon. I expect you all to be ready to train by the time the sun crests the horizon tomorrow morning. You'll have plenty of time to rest."

"What will happen to us?" Charmander asked, stepping forward. Froakie could feel the inquisitive, daring nature of his question bounce off his words. He had a feeling that, years from now, his friend would be commanding armies in battle. Not only did he have it in his blood; he already held it in his tone.

To his question, Torterra glared. "Don't think you can talk to me in a defiant manner, Fire Nation," he scolded. "You will continue to train in the Grass Nation. You will fight if we ask you to fight, and you will stay until we return you to your home Nations. You will not leave before the Council decides you can, and even then it will be under whatever conditions the Council decides to enact. Is that clear?"

"Yes," Charmander said, not a hint of doubt or fear in his voice.

Torterra stared hard at him for one more moment, almost as if he was about to say something else. Then he lifted his gaze and addressed all of the trainees once again. "I have business to attend to regarding the Council. There are guards posted outside the door, so don't get any ideas. I'll leave you all to your own devices until I return." He stared down at the ground, as if he had more to say, but stopped himself from saying it and stared at the door. He turned, his tail swishing just above Froakie's head as he lumbered out of the opening, his hulking figure disappearing around the corner of the house.

As soon as his shape was gone, Chikorita burst out in a fit of chaotic sobbing. Froakie, instinct driving him, held her, pressed his body against hers. He looked over at his fellow trainees, the ones he had journeyed with for so long. They too were coming to her aid. He looked at Piplup especially, trying to search for any hint of malice, any sense of blame that would make Froakie feel as though he were doing something wrong, but none penetrated his gaze. Whatever he was thinking in that moment, his face did not reveal it.

Everyone gathered around Chikorita, holding her, and the understanding of the strength of their bond washed over Froakie. He wasn't just friends with these Pokémon from other Nations; he was _one_ with them. They were a family, a group that was there for one another when they needed one another most. They were the epitome of loyalty, the true harbingers of strength that could crush the unseen enemy that was the Reapers. Together, Froakie knew they would find a way out of this. They would leave the Grass Nation and they would, with all of their strength, find the Wardens and help them to defeat the Reapers that had caused them so much pain.

Turtwig was the only one to hang back. Froakie felt guilt gnaw at him, but he knew their destinies were not intertwined, not like the five of theirs were. They would find a way to make everything right again, Froakie was sure about that. No matter what the Reapers had wanted from Turtwig and from them didn't matter; what mattered was that they would not rest until the Reapers were destroyed.

Froakie knew in his heart that he would not rest until he had avenged his father. In that moment he promised himself two things. First, he would help Chikorita kill Rhyperior when the time came. And second, he would, eventually, return to the Water Nation. He had to go back. He had to find Feraligatr.

He had to kill him.


	60. Moltres II

**Moltres**

In a little less than forty-eight hours, everything had gone to shit.

It started when Typhlosion had nearly broken down his door, huffing and puffing in a mad haste to get to Moltres. After calming him down he'd learned that Charizard and Blaziken were no longer in the hospital. They had disappeared sometime between early last night and in the pre-dawn hours, as no one on staff at the hospital during these hours had seen either of them leaving the building. What was more, it had been _Tepig_ , a trainee of all Pokémon, that had noticed their absences of the Council Members and informed Flareon of them.

It was clear to Moltres where they were going. They hadn't been able to talk about anything except for the fates of their children in the half a month or so that they had been bedridden. Taking this to heart, Moltres had soared across the closest areas of the Water Nation (assuming in the back of his mind that the Nation still existed, given the thrashing Aquarius had endured), using his sharp vision to find them. It had been a futile attempt. All he could see were the majority blue-colored citizens of the Water Nation. Surprisingly, many of them didn't seem concerned for their well-being at all, walking in the streets in broad daylight and, as the night began to fade in, wandering to bars in search of alcohol and good times. It was as though none of them had been informed of Aquarius' demise.

Aquarius was where Moltres felt safest, and given what had happened to the city, it seemed as though it would be the perfect starting point for a search for the missing trainees. He'd gotten a chance to scour the buildings this time. He wished he hadn't, though; piles of bodies had been stuffed into the still half-standing structure. The first one he came across, a lanky blue figure with a long tongue wrapped around his throat, had stunk so vilely that he nearly vomited. Its eyes had already rotted away, and the skin was beginning to slough off in thick, peeling growths.

Needless to say, searching Aquarius hadn't been the best of times.

Homeward, defeated, Moltres began to travel back to Furnace when he saw a familiar figure on the ground. He flew down towards it, landing as gracefully as he could, now certain there were other Pokémon close by. Ones that knew where the small armored transport belonging to the Fire Nation had come from. Moltres knew as well, and he silently wished it was small enough that he would be able to carry it off with him back to the capital. Knowing it was futile to do anything about it, Moltres lifted off and headed home, looking forward to a good night's sleep after an arduous, risky search attempt.

That good night's sleep was interrupted after three and a half hours, with yet another serious of furious poundings against his door. Typhlosion was back, this time to report yet another missing person; Tepig. Moltres, feeling absolute hopeless frustration, flew off almost immediately to scour the surrounding areas of Furnace and a little ways into Water Nation territory. The sun hadn't been up yet when he'd started the search, so it had been within reason that he would find the Fire Nation trainee easily. It was bad enough that they had lost four trainees over the last few weeks, and it was even worse that two Senators had vanished. But the shit icing on the shit cake was that this left only two trainees that were gearing up to be Great Warriors in the entirety of Furnace. Sure, three wasn't that large a number either, but two still left the Fire Nation weaker than it should have been. And weakness was not something they could afford, not after the Ground Nation's attack.

But his search had yielded no results. He admitted to himself later, after he had arrived home upon reporting his failure to Typhlosion, that the endless searching he'd done the day before had deterred him from scouring the outer city and beyond for a mere trainee. He cared about Tepig, just as he cared for all other trainees, but in the grand scheme of things Tepig was a mere cog in the machine. The Fire Nation would be weak if they were to dedicate a massive amount of time searching for a single trainee, when making sure two leaders in the Nation was of a higher emergency priority. He felt like an asshole mulling this over, but such guilt didn't consume his mind as much as it would have had he gotten an ounce of good sleep. When he woke up from his second nap, he felt more refreshed than he had in the last two days.

He walked out of his house, feeling the slowly disintegrating warmth of the sun against his body. Had he not needed the sleep, he realized in his new, clearer perspective, he probably would have searched for the Senators and Tepig for eternity until he found them. He felt a stab of guilt gnaw at his belly, not just for what he couldn't do for the three of them. He also felt it for Charmander and Torchic, both of whom the Fire Nation had practically left to die because of other conflicts and concerns. They had tried, yes, but in that moment as he watched the sun set over the still-recovering Furnace, Moltres couldn't help but feel as though he had betrayed all of them.

He shook his head, his elongated beak moving back and forth against the nearly autumnal-colored illumination. He couldn't beat himself up over these minimal ideas, not when his Nation needed him as badly as it did now. He didn't want to lose faith, but didn't his lack of searching for answers indicate he had done just that? Or maybe it was the Blastoise he had tortured for information, a random grunt that had pleaded for his life eons ago, that was making him mistrust himself. He shook his head again. Perhaps he needed more sleep than he realized.

"Glad to see you're awake."

Moltres turned to his left. His house, which was situated on a hill about a tenth of a mile from where the Council building used to be, sloped downwards on the right. There a little dirt path wound up to his front door, fairly long grass growing and wavering on either side of it. He was only ever visited by two of those who disappeared and the figure that walked up to him now. But Typhlosion was not alone. Beside him was another Pokémon, one he recognized well due to having appointed her to defend Furnace in the battle for the Red Desert in case of an approach by enemy troops. Delphox, the Great Warrior Moltres believed could never look anything less than confident. Yet here, as she walked up the dirt path to his house beside Typhlosion, her eyes were downcast, and her head was pointed towards the ground. Moltres had never seen one of the most fearsome warriors in the Fire Nation look so broken.

Moltres fully turned to face them. When he did, Delphox looked up at him, shock now coursing through her face. "Your wings," she said.

"What about them?" Moltres asked, a bit confused as to why she would be asking him about them.

"I just…I've never seen them folded against your sides like that," she said. "And they're not on fire anymore either."

"The fire only burns when I have them spread out," he explained. "Which I often do so as to garner the attention of those I wish to speak to. Although I can't control it, which has made me a bit nervous in the last couple of days." He turned his attention to Typhlosion. "I'm assuming this is what you've come to talk about?"

"Yes," Typhlosion admitted. "I believe that temporary changes have to be made in order to sustain the balance and strength of our Nation."

Moltres was inclined to agree. Despite this, he also understood what this meant, and what kind of leadership changes this would entail. He also knew the implications of such far-reaching alterations, and what kind of effect they would have on the Council as a whole. Nevertheless, Typhlosion was right; given everything that had happened over the course of the last two days, it was more than an intelligent idea to acknowledge the necessities they would have to overcome.

"Would you like to come in?" Moltres asked.

"If that would be alright with you," Typhlosion said. "It won't take long, but I believe a bit of privacy will do us all some good."

Moltres nodded, not entirely understanding why privacy would matter at all. His house was sequestered from the bustling doldrums of Furnace, not a single soul at least a tenth of a mile in every direction. It would be redundant to go into his house. But, given the way the chain of command worked in the Council, he couldn't deny Typhlosion what he wanted. Even if they were friends, they both understood that rules had to be followed. At least, to Moltres, this was the way things had to go in order for things to be like they always have been.

He opened his door, allowing the two of them inside. Delphox still looked astonished by Moltres' new appearance, one that very few people had seen him in. He understood, however, as he hadn't seen Delphox since prior to the Ground Nation's attack on the city. Then his wings had been stretched out, giving him the appearance of being far larger than he actually was. In true comparison terms, Moltres was only a foot taller than Typhlosion. It was the wings that truly made him seem like a notable adversary for enemy combatants.

They sat at Moltres' dingy, dark kitchen table. It was made of some kind of metal, although the table was so old and rusted he had no idea from what. The chairs themselves were plastic, and the walls of the house were made of brick. All of these were specifically designed so that he wouldn't burn up the house, as the fire on his head never went out. It flickered back and forth on occasion, and became smaller when he was out in the rain. But much like the fire on Charizard's tail, it was a flame that could not go out. He was just glad the he wasn't the only one who had to endure the slight discomfort of the rough fire-retardant blankets.

He wished he could sleep, thinking about those blankets and that pillow. But he had business that needed to be done. He sat facing Typhlosion, with Delphox sitting on his left side. She was looking just as gloomy as she had when she first entered the house, staring down at the table as though she were ashamed of something. She looked less like a fierce warrior and more like a child that was about to be scolded for an awful mistake. "Are you feeling alright, Lady Delphox?"

She looked directly at him. Despite the shame in her eyes they did not waver from his, a semblance of the warrior that hid below this unnecessary façade. "I do not wish to be called Lady Delphox any longer," she stated firmly. "I have failed Furnace, and I therefore deserve to be demoted. Send me out there like the rest of the troops. I do not deserve the title of Lady Delphox the Valiant."

"My apologies for being so blunt, Delphox, but what the hell are you talking about?"

The casualness of his tone made Delphox's shock perk up once again. It was only momentary, however, as she returned her face back to a look of nearly unutterable sadness. "I was the commanding warrior during the Ground Nation's invasion on Furnace," she explained. "Not only did I allow the Ground Nation to enter the city, but because of my failure as a worthy commanding officer, the Council tower was destroyed."

"Delphox," Moltres began, attempting to reassure her.

"No!" she snapped. "Listen! I am responsible for the deaths of five hundred and twenty-six soldiers, seven hundred and twelve civilians, forty-two of whom were children, and on top of that one trainee was killed and our best one was paralyzed. I don't want your sympathy, and I don't want your reassurances. The Ground Nation did not kill all of those people. I did."

She leaned forward in her chair. "I know you of all Pokémon should know what it's like to look into the eyes of someone who is _hoping_ their loved one made it out alive, only to have to tell them that they are never coming home. And I know for you it was harder, because it was the eyes of a child. But you _must_ understand where I'm coming from."

Moltres felt anger flare up in him, one that he almost couldn't control. For her to attempt to use the deaths of the Emboar's, deaths he felt personally responsible for, in order to justify her leaving her commanding position, was downright cruel. Especially because their son was now out in the world, lost to the unknown. Perhaps she felt as though his lack of answers so far meant she thought he'd moved on from the pain that haunted him every single day? No, he was reading too deep into this. Delphox was always hot-headed, but she was also afraid of failure, which made her the perfect commander. Moltres wasn't about to let her leave.

But to his surprise, Typhlosion spoke up. "Very well. You will no longer be an active member of the Fire Nation military."

"What?" Moltres said, just as Delphox shouted. "What do you mean I still can't fight?" Moltres held his tongue and allowed her to speak.

"With all due respect, Senator," Delphox said, "I'm not unfit to fight. Is it because I don't want to have to deal with the pressure of having the lives of hundreds of thousands in my hands at any given moment that makes you think I'm not fit for battle overall? If I have only myself to look after, then maybe fighting will be easier. Besides, you yourself can't demote me. Only Moltres can do that. That's why you brought me here, isn't it?"

Moltres didn't even need to ask why Typhlosion had accompanied her. He had seen the opportunity and taken it. Moltres could only hope that Delphox's feeling of self-unimportance wouldn't transfer to her new positon.

"Perhaps," Typhlosion mused. "But I have a more important job for you. _That's_ why we're here."

Typhlosion leaned forward in his seat and folded his claws. "As all of us and everyone else in Furnace knows by now, Senators Charizard and Blaziken are missing. We believe they've gone searching for their missing children, although we have very little to go on as to where any of them could be right now. But because two Senators are absent, there are vacancies that must be filled. I am the Council's Political Strategist, which means that, due to Charizard and Blaziken's absences, I am the highest ranking official in the Fire Nation Council. Since they are gone, I have no choice but to temporarily promote myself to Head of the Council. And you, Delphox…I want you to act as the Council's Head Advisor."

Delphox stared at Typhlosion like he'd just grown a pair of heads on either side of him. "What?" she asked. "No, I couldn't take on such a task! What about Moltres? He's perfectly capable of being your advisor! He had much more experience in this field than I have, since, you know, I don't have any!"

But Typhlosion simply shook his head. "No can do," he said. "Moltres has been an excellent War Strategist. Both of us know it; he's been in this positon since long before our eldest children were even conceived of. He needs to stay in this position because, without him leading the charge into every fight we face, the Fire Nation is sure to be attacked far worse than it already has been. If you think Furnace was bad, imagine the devastation that would occur if our Strategist was inexperienced. Besides, I don't think you'd like a position like that; the amount of lives you'd be responsible for then would rise to the tens of millions."

He looked like he was suppressing a smirk as he spoke this last sentence. Moltres focused on Delphox, who had clammed up at the mention of having more lives she would have to be responsible for. She stared at the table, lost in thought. Then, after a few moments of deliberation, she faced Typhlosion and held out her paw to him. "I would be honored to serve as your advisor, Senator Typhlosion."

Typhlosion smiled and shook her hand. "I'm glad to hear it," he said. "Welcome to the Council, Senator Delphox. For however long we have you here, we are happy it's you."

Delphox released her grip. A confused gaze settled on her face, one that would have probably fit the mold of how Moltres was feeling at that very moment. "But why me?" she asked, echoing the question Moltres was going to ask Typhlosion in private had he been given the chance. "Why am I worthy of being your advisor?"

Typhlosion grinned back, and in his eyes were traces of both pride and respect. They looked real enough to Moltres, but he still wanted to know how well his logic held up.

"I chose you," Typhlosion said, "because you are the most competent commander we have. Out of everyone in this entire Nation, you are the one who stands out because _you_ have what it takes to do what has to be done. You may feel as though you were unable to properly protect Furnace this time around. But that's a feeling we as warriors must learn to live with. No matter the cost, we must never give up the cause. I think in this position, you will be able to both thrive as a productive member of the Fire Nation, and also realize that you are stronger than you know."

At the words of her superior, Delphox's eyes lit up with fierce determination. It was the fire that Moltres had seen in her before, in every battle she had ever fought, the one that made her the commanding, practical leader that was (he thought, now looking at her in this new confident state) worthy of the title of Senator. He understood that Typhlosion's pick had not been out of pity, nor had it necessarily been out of a need to help her. It was because he understood her just as much as Moltres did. Perhaps better.

 _What was I thinking?_ Moltres thought. _Typhlosion will make a great leader until the others return._

"Now," Typhlosion said, sitting back. "Given that you are now a member of the Council, you will be part of the discussion as to who will replace me as the Council's Political Strategist. I already have someone in mind, although I'm not too sure what you both think about it."

"I'm listening," Moltres responded. But given how forward and unrelenting Typhlosion had been about appointing Delphox as Advisor, Moltres believed that it didn't matter what he thought or not. Typhlosion had already made up his mind, and whoever it was he wanted on the Council would end up there.

"I believe that Sir Arcanine would make a valuable asset to the Council," he said.

Moltres stood up. "Absolutely not!" he said.

Typhlosion, a bit taken aback, cringed a bit out of fear from Moltres' minimal outburst. He leaned forward again. "Why do you say this?" he asked.

"Arcanine is young," Moltres scoffed. "He means well and he's a dedicated warrior, but he's also in the process of trying to start a family with his wife. You did notice, didn't you? Or have you not paid attention on our trips to the hospital?"

Typhlosion fell silent. He folded his claws and rested them in the table. He crushed them together, the color starting to drain from them as he squeezed. He stared at them as he spoke. "I understand your concerns, Moltres, about a child growing up without his father. But let's be reasonable here. Arcanine would be much safer if he were a Political Strategist than if he continued to be a soldier. Don't you remember how he lost sight in one of his eyes during a battle? He's dedicated, and he would rather die on the battlefield than even think of putting his family in danger. He would be much safer if he was working from behind the scenes, helping us to make peace or conflict with other Nations in a way that won't cause him to shed any blood."

What Typhlosion was saying made sense, but he also understood that being a Political Strategist meant the possibility of meeting with the Political Strategist from another Nation as well. For all anyone knew, a meeting like that could just serve as an excuse for one party to cut off the head of another. It had happened before, and if history had taught Moltres anything, it was that it would happen again. He couldn't risk one of the best Great Warriors the Fire Nation had ever trained (save for Heatmor, Arceus rest his soul), not when the risk was so great.

Delphox stood beside Moltres. "You both make convincing arguments," she stated, looking at both of them. "But I believe that Typhlosion is correct. If Sir and Lady Arcanine are to raise their child in a world where both of its parents are alive, then it would be best if he is taken off of the battlefield in order to pursue a more politically-slanted role in the Nation." She sat down as she finished.

Moltres looked at Typhlosion, wanting to argue more but already understanding that doing so would break the discipline of the Council. "It appears I am outvoted," he conceded, settling back in his chair.

"Yes," Typhlosion responded. "It would appear that way." What was that glint in his eyes? Satisfaction?

At that moment, the new leader of the Fire Nation's Council stood. "I believe it's time that we get going," he said. "I can see that you're tired, and that you would like to rest. I will go inform Arcanine about his new role as a Council Member."

Delphox stood as well. She looked at both of the elder Council Members. "Thank you for this opportunity," she said. "Perhaps one day I will be able to pass on what I learn from this experience to my daughters."

"That sounds wonderful," Typhlosion said, beaming.

"Typhlosion," Moltres snapped. The new Head of the Fire Nation's Council turned towards him. "A word in private, if you please."

Typhlosion stood there, seemingly lost in thought. Moltres could practically see into his mind, him wondering whether or not he should force Delphox to stay for this conversation. He could, and Moltres wouldn't have much power to do anything expect kick them both out. But then the conversation would be nullified, and he wouldn't be able to get where he wanted to with it. Thankfully, however, Typhlosion simply turned and nodded towards Delphox, who nodded back and left the house. The door slammed a bit too hard on her way out.

"Typhlosion," Moltres grumbled. "What the hell is all of this?"

"I don't know what to do," Typhlosion admitted. This open admittance shocked Moltres into silence, and so he listened. "Honestly, Moltres, I'm probably the least qualified Pokémon to be leading the Council. Charizard and Blaziken knew how to lead the Fire Nation, but me? I'm the Political Strategist. I can't run an entire Nation! You would make a better leader than me!"

"You already know I wouldn't be comfortable with the reins," Moltres said. It was true; the self-doubt that sometimes consumed him was enough for him to know he would be a terrible leader. Additionally, it would be breaking the laws established by the Nations in a time no one could remember, laws that couldn't just be altered at whim. They had been set in place to provide balance, a balance that had to stay in order for everything to remain perfect.

"That's why I chose Delphox as my Advisor," Typhlosion continued. " _She_ would make a better leader, but that's not how this works. I'll be leaning on both of you, Moltres, and while I understand that you may not agree with my choices for the Council, it's the only decision that I need to make on my own."

Typhlosion looked down at the ground. "You know you're one of my best friends," he said. "I can't let you down. I can't let Furnace down. I can't let my son down. But I'm scared. And so I need all the help I can get to make Furnace great again!"

Moltres nodded. "Yes," he said. "You will. Which is why, while I don't agree with who you've chosen, I understand."

"Who would you have chosen?" Typhlosion asked.

Moltres, a bit taken aback by the suddenness of the question, racked his brain. While Delphox had lost people, she hadn't been personally afflicted by the Ground Nation's attack as much as Infernape and Rapidash had been. That truly did only leave her and Arcanine as the only Great Warriors that could competently deal with being part of the Council. Typhlosion had made a decision based on how mentally stable each Great Warrior seemed to be after the tragedy that had befallen Furance, and as far as Moltres knew, there was no fault in that.

"You did well," Moltres said. "If I were in your position, I probably would have done the same thing."

Typhlosion looked at him, shocked for a moment. Then, regaining composure, he turned away. "I'm going to tell Arcanine now, then," he explained. "I'll gather them all tonight. Could we meet here until the Council Tower, or a replacement of some kind, is rebuilt?"

"That's fine," Moltres said. "I'll leave the door unlocked. You can come in and wake me up."

Typhlosion barked a laugh. "Yeah," he said. "We will."

He turned back to his old comrade, then. Moltres saw for the first time the black circles beneath his friend's eyes. Moltres may have done a lot of work these past two days, but it was clear Typhlosion hadn't even _slept_. The new stress of leadership, he realized, must have been like a ton of bricks on his back. He had never known to Typhlosion not to be confident, but that had been the same for Delphox as well. There was a first time for everything, he supposed.

"The Flame Shines Eternal," Typhlosion said.

Moltres nodded. "Yes. The Flame _does_ Shine Eternal."

Typhlosion turned and left, closing the door softly behind him. Moltres felt the wave of exhaustion he didn't know he'd been fighting back suddenly wash over him. He fell into his bed, drifting into his dreams. As he did so, he thought of Tepig, his fellow Council Members, and of the other missing trainees. Whatever changes the Council went through. No matter how much politicized bullshit was thrown his way, Moltres vowed in his half-asleep stupor to find all of them. He wanted to do the right thing. He owed Tepig that much after causing him to lose his parents. He owed Charizard and Blaziken that much for the hate they felt for him after learning of the Blastoise he'd tortured.

Most of all, he wanted the guilt weighing on him to go away. It had been small, nearly invisible at first, but now it was growing, threatening to suffocate him. Without doing the right thing, Moltres knew that he would surely die. After all, what would be left to live for?


	61. Nuzleaf III

**Nuzleaf**

His arms were sore and the Grass Nation's head medic, Miss Ferrothorn, had ordered him to rest. But none of that was going to stop him from doing what he wanted to do.

Despite the victory, there had been substantial losses during the battle. Rumors spread from the guards who watched over the Capitol Building to the ears of other soldiers, rumors that said that as many as five thousand souls had been lost on the battlefield. And on the Grass Nation's side alone, no less. One of those souls, Nuzleaf remembered with a clench of his heart, had been Senator Meganium. He couldn't help but feel a little responsible for his death. He'd noticed the Senator hadn't been wearing any armor, yet he hadn't verbally acknowledged it. He didn't know just how much that would have changed, but it still made him feel awful about it.

Still, what astounded him was the wreckage the trainees had seemed to single-handedly wreak upon the Rock Nation's camp. It had been in shambles when the troops finally arrived, yet the only Pokémon on their side (Nuzleaf begrudgingly lumped the Fire and Water Nation trainees in regarding that statement) that had been in the camp previously were those trainees and Meganium. He didn't know what had happened in that camp, but he'd seen enough destruction to know that whoever those trainees were, they didn't hold back one bit. And for that they had Nuzleaf's undying respect.

Less astounding and more confusing was the fact that the Grass Nation hadn't killed Golem. They'd had him surrounded and could have put him down right then and there, lain his body next to that of Senator Rampardos' and used it as a message: You screw with the Grass Nation, we screw you. Instead, per the orders of Sir Ferrothorn, Grass Nation soldiers simply knocked him unconscious (an effort that cost yet another life) and carried him back to the city. Nuzleaf had witnessed this and run up to the Great Warrior, demanding to know just what the hell he was thinking letting the enemy into Ivy City.

"It's bad enough that the Head of our entire Nation is dead!" Nuzleaf had screamed at him. "What if Golem gets loose in the city, huh? Do you know how many people he could kill?"

Ferrothorn had looked at him with tired, sunken eyes. They were nearly dead of any emotion, like the battle had drained every single ounce of strength he'd ever had right out of him. "I won't let that happen," he told Nuzleaf, unwavering in his stoic response. "We're bringing him to the city to ask him questions."

"Questions?" Nuzleaf was outraged at this point, his heart beating quicker at the thought of Roselia being put in any danger whatsoever. "Yeah, what kind of information do you need from him?"

"The Rock Nation could have a contingency plan in place," Ferrothorn had explained. "If they do, we need to know what it is so we can better protect the city. And he will _not_ be staying in anything comfier than a cold, iron cell. Nor is he getting out of this without losing a finger or two."

Nuzleaf didn't have time to respond. The senior Warrior was swept away into the crowd of soldiers, helping the lower-ranking fighters drag Golem's limp figure towards the city. As he watched them go, an epiphany struck Nuzleaf with such force that he was barely aware of the shouting going on behind him as a group of soldiers helped the mixed group of trainees exit the battlefield.

At any given moment, anyone could die. It was an awful truth, but it was only one of two facts about life, the other being that everyone is born. But to be born meant to die; it was just the way of cause and effect. Dying was the most hopeless, empty truth life could offer, but it was the only truth it could serve up after one was born. It was a plate of garbage, one that you had to down in order to understand that if you don't do what you intend to in this world, you never will. It chilled him as he kept thinking about it on his lonesome trudge back to Ivy City. Death could come at him at any given moment. He could be sliced apart by a straggling Rock Nation soldier on his way back to the city. He could trip over a rock and fall so hard on the ground his head cracked open. Granted it was less likely to happen on a soft, grassy field such as the one he was traversing through, but it didn't matter. Death was everywhere, and everyone around him was inching toward it each day. Even him, and in this instance it wasn't his choice that he was. It was just the situation, one he would have to make the most of.

That was why, while the moon hung over Ivy City the night after that ferocious battle, he was going to do what he had to do.

He walked to the door, his arm raised, then hesitated. He didn't want to ruin everything, didn't want her to think he was insane or that he was being too up-front. Most of all, he didn't want to hurt her. He couldn't bear to see pain in her eyes, and it would be even worse to know that he was the one who caused it. Still, in light of all those doubtful thoughts flickering through his head, he had to do what he wanted to. Before death took him, he could be a slave no more.

He knocked on the door. He heard footsteps running down stairs, could hear them getting heavier as they approached, then saw her face as the door was flung open. They stared at one another for a second. Then Roselia jumped onto him, locking her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and kissed him harder than she ever had. He kissed her back, folding his own arms around her back, realizing that if this moment never ended, he would be alright with it.

She jumped off of him. "Sorry," she said. "I just…you never told me when you came back. I knew you'd have to have lived, I just got so worried when you didn't come over."

"Yeah," Nuzleaf said. "I just had a lot on my mind after the battle. I…" he trailed off, almost not wanting to tell her. Her eyes were glowing fiercely, concerned for him. He couldn't do it. Not yet. He had to divert the subject. "I saw him."

Roselia's eyes widened, sadness and sympathy replacing her worry. She stepped aside. "Come in," she said. "No one's home. But you probably already know why."

"No, why?" he asked, genuinely not knowing why Roselia would be home alone.

"Oh, I just assumed that you would have known," she said, closing the door behind her and following him into the living room. Nuzleaf admired it, similar to his own, although Roserade, Roselia's mother, had ordered carpeting for the floor. It was a commodity not many had, and not many took advantage of either. The white carpeting did look good in the nearly romantic lighting. He wanted to crack a joke about the lighting, ask her if she'd been waiting for him. But he couldn't bring himself to do that. Not when the tone was going to get a lot less jokey soon.

"Known what?" Nuzleaf asked. Asking her about this was like pulling teeth, something he'd never had to deal with involving Roselia before.

"My mom's been offered a seat on the Council," she said.

Nuzleaf whipped around. "Really?" he said, genuinely interested now.

"Yeah," she replied, shifting her feet. "I was a little afraid to mention it to you, since you said you'd seen…you know…"

"I know," Nuzleaf said. "But Roselia, that's awesome. I mean, not that Meganium's dead, that's awful. But the fact that your mom's moving up in the world and taking you with her…that's a good thing."

"I know it is!" Roselia said. "What do you think I am, stupid or something?"

"Well…" Nuzleaf trailed off, smirking.

Roselia laughed, moving closer to him, putting an arm around him. "Well I'm glad to see you care about me so much," she joked, leaning up to kiss him. He kissed her back, once again feeling that endless happiness he hoped to Arceus he wasn't about to shatter.

He had his arm wrapped around her as he sat on the couch. She followed, snuggling up to him. He looked forward, noticing the huge, dark window in front of him. The curtains were drawn back, exposing not only the two of them to the world, but also the world to them. The city was quiet tonight, the dim lanterns that lined the sides of the cobblestone streets barely illuminating anything. It was dark, but it was a tranquil kind of darkness, the kind that didn't bother you if you stepped out into it. The kind that didn't try to oppress or terrify. It was the kind that invited you to bask in it. Perhaps it was the moon's light that solidified that.

"So your mom's like, what, getting sworn in or something?" Nuzleaf asked, not really knowing how it worked aside from the one-off comment from Shiftry that he'd been appointed one afternoon.

"Meeting with the Council and getting filled in on Council-y things," she replied. "She's going to be replacing Torterra as the Council's Political Strategist."

"Really? Then what's Torterra going to be doing?"

"Seriously?" Roselia looked up at him, a mock annoyed look on her face.

"Oh Arceus, I think _I'm_ the stupid one!" he said. Roselia playfully hit his face with one of her roses.

"So, let me explain," she said in a playfully condescending way. "Torterra is the most senior Council Member, and because of that, he will be taking over as the Head of the Council. My mom's going to replace him as Political Strategist, because without one of those the whole system falls apart. And since your dad and my mom are so new, neither of them can be the Head of the Council."

"Even though, in technical terms, my dad _should_ be head of Council," Nuzleaf said, trying to make sure he was getting all of this right.

"Yes," Roselia replied. "And I'm sure he's pissed about that."

"Good," Nuzleaf replied, shifting a little at the mention of Shiftry. "He doesn't deserve it anyways."

"Let's not think about that right now," she said, moving a little closer to him. "Let's think about us. Now."

Nuzleaf abruptly stood up. He didn't know how he was going to be able to steer this conversation to the direction he wanted to, and he hated being even slightly an asshole to Roselia, but he felt as though he wouldn't get another chance. She nearly fell over when he stood, then caught herself on the couch and looked at him. "Nuzleaf?" she asked. "Is everything okay?"

"No," he said. "No, everything isn't okay. And it's not about Meganium, either. It's about…about something I realized."

He looked out the window. The darkness, etching into itself the façade of everlasting peace if he could reach it. But in that soft black cloak of night there was always the danger of being lost to it forever.

"What did you realize?" Roselia asked, her voice soft and comforting, as it always was.

Nuzleaf turned to her, looking her in the eyes as he spoke, because he had to make it clear how he felt. "That life is short," he said. "That everything we're doing is going to lead to death, and that facing something like that is terrifying. I'm terrified of losing you, of losing myself, and of losing everything I've ever known. I feel like I have to do something with my life, be something, so that when I do die, I can feel like my life didn't go to waste. And the way things are right now, the way I'm living and we're living…it's a dance that feels like it's been going on for too long, and it's one that needs to end now."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

For the first time Nuzleaf saw the tears standing out in Roselia's eyes. "What, no," he said, shaking his head. "Why, is that what that sounded like?"

"Yeah, kind of!"

"No I…I want to marry you."

Roselia's head perked up, and her mouth was a wide "O" of shock. The tears in her eyes started to flow down her cheeks. Nuzleaf began to stumble over his words, attempting to remedy the situation. "I mean, if you're not ready that's fine. I don't even have a ring or anything to give yo-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Roselia embraced him. He could still feel her tears on his shoulder, and it took him way longer than the average Pokémon to realize they were tears of joy. He hugged her too, realizing that he had done it. Death could not take him in vain. So long as Roselia was by his side, the world would be a place where death was just an annoyance. It had to be avoided, and it could be avoided now. Because he was out from being outside the walls of the city. He was free.

And she was there, right alongside him.

She sniffled into his shoulder. "You really are stupid," she said.

"I'll take that as a yes, then?" he asked.

She giggled. "Of course!" she shouted into his ear, making it ring (but that was much better than his ears ringing from an explosion in a battle). She let go of him, staring into his eyes in silence for a moment. Then, she spoke:

"Nuzleaf, I love you so much. I don't even want to imagine life without you."

"I love you, too," he said. "And I'm always going to be here for you. I swear to you, I will do everything I can to make you happy. Everything I do from here on out will be on your name."

"And how long did you practice _that_ one in the mirror for?"

"I didn't," he said, smiling slyly. "In fact, I only muttered it a few times to myself on the way over here!"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh Arcus," she murmured.

He took her in his arms then, lifting her up and making her scream and giggle with excitement. He turned to the darkness beyond the window, a small smirk on his face, and closed the curtain. He looked down at her, Roselia, the love of his life cradled in his arms, and smiled brighter than he ever had before. Life really was good.

He took her to the couch and began to kiss her. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around him as he climbed on top of her. He felt her body pressing closer and closer against his until they were one body, conjoined by the passion of their love, tightening their grips on one another as they sweetly expressed themselves. They were close, and all at once they love they felt for one another exploded in warmth and sounds of satisfaction.

After everything he'd been through, Nuzleaf couldn't think of a better way to spend his first of many nights he would be forced to be awake for inside the city walls.


	62. The Fatherless Warrior

**The Fatherless Warrior**

He didn't know if he was still in the Grass Nation or not. He couldn't tell because he had never been taught the boundaries of the Nations. He was still too new a trainee to understand all of it, yet he had been sent into battle. Well, _goaded_ felt like the right word for it. His father and fellow trainees had informed him of the glory of battle. They had divulged to him the secret joy one got from slicing open the throat of an enemy, or simply breaking a couple of their bones. At first he hadn't been sure what to make of it. It had never disturbed him, though. On the contrary, he was fascinated by these tidbits of information. Sometimes, even before his training had officially begun, he would lay awake at night, wondering what the best method of killing another Pokémon would be.

He'd tested it on a few soldiers during the endless days of battle, a battle with the end goal being to push straight into Ivy City and burn it to the ground. There had been, of course, a secondary goal, one that he'd sensed based on his father's and Rhyperior's urgency about the secretive matter. It was something they wouldn't let even the normal soldiers or the Great Warriors in on, so it made sense as to why none of that information had been relayed to him. Golem knew, though. Perhaps Senator Aggron, who was back in the capital city of Igneous, knew about the plan as well. It was probably a Council thing.

Oh, he realized. His thoughts were getting carried away again. Ha! It was always a terrible thing, to have his thoughts suddenly slip out from underneath him like a rug being pulled from beneath his feet. Some days it was even tough just to keep his composure. He just wanted to know what something felt like when it died.

His first victim had been a Sceptile. He had snuck up on it and, with a sword specifically designed for him (his stubby arms means that the hilt of the weapon had to be comically small when compared to the blade that jutted out from it), cut its throat open. As he watched the blood gush out, droplets splattering his face and the ground in front of him, he felt disappointed. The soldier hadn't died as slowly as he'd hoped for. He wanted to know what it was like to see a Pokémon die, to truly see even ounce of their pain as the life faded from their eyes.

He'd tired again with three more soldiers of varying species. One he'd head-butted and stabbed through the brain, and while the shock of her eyes had aroused feelings in him he'd never felt before, the life had faded far too quickly for him to savor them. Another he'd head-butted, only this time he smashed his head in. Again, it was satisfying to feel the blood pour out, but the strength of his cranium had been so much so that the eyes had popped on his first blow. Where was the fun in watching someone die if you couldn't savor the fear in their eyes?

The closest he got to anything was when he tripped up another Sceptile. This time he aimed his sword for its chest, slicing inward and then downward before removing it. She'd reached down to her wound, attempting to plug it up with her hands. But her efforts were futile. It took a full three minutes for the life to fade from her eyes, and he had watched every single moment of it pass by with his eyes locked onto hers. When the life was finally gone, he still didn't feel satisfied. What he needed was a change of pace. He needed a chance to find someone who he could lock up and torture, perhaps indefinitely, in order to satiate these urges. There had been the Grass Nation trainee they had held prisoner for a while, but he already knew that this "Turtwig" as they called him was important to the Council's mission. He needed a different target.

And then he got one. Right as she killed his father he made a note of who she was in his mind. Chikorita, the last remaining daughter of the now deceased Senator Meganium. Watching her murder his father like that had brought up such rage that he didn't know if he would be able to control it. He'd sped at her and the group of Pokémon she was with, Pokémon he realized that were from different nations. The fire plume was proof enough that, in one way or another, Grass Nation had somehow allied themselves with the Fire Nation. It didn't seem to make any sense, yet that was the way it appeared to be.

He didn't want anyone around when he avenged his father. He wanted to find her somewhere alone, perhaps the back alley of Ivy City, and knock her out. He would drag her to a dark, secluded area, perhaps miles away from civilization, and do everything in his power to make her feel more pain than she had ever felt before in her life. He could picture the begging and screaming that would take place as he slowly peeled her skin off, as he rammed into her chest and broke her petite little ribs. If he was lucky they might splinter inside of her, puncturing her lungs and slowly draining her of air. And there was something else, too. Something about her that was almost tantalizing. Watching her thigh muscles tighten as she snapped his father's neck had been, out of context, mesmerizing, and something he wanted to see happen again. And he would do anything in his power to make those thighs tighten like that again, even if she wasn't alive to feel it.

But first he had to find his way back home, something he was struggling with due to a lack of a sense of direction. He had been walking through a dense forest for hours, searching for the signature mountains and plateaus of the Rock Nation, yet he had found nothing. Panic was starting to seize him. If he couldn't find his way back home, then how was he supposed to plan his act of revenge? It was all threatened by the fact that he hadn't received the proper training in terms of geography. It wasn't something he nor his father had ever felt was important, and so learning about the geography of the world just felt like a waste of time. Why do that when there is training to be had for future battles to be fought?

As much as he loved his father, he still wished that he'd taught him something proper about geography. It would be the only thing that would have gotten him out of the mess he was in sooner.

As if Arceus had heard his thoughts, a rumbling stomp echoed in the distance. He stopped and stared at the dark trees to his left. Moonlight, faint yet still present, just barely illuminated the forest in front of him. Then, another stomp, this one so close that it shook the ground. He stared into the trees, seeing if he could make out the shape that was lumbering towards him.

Then, like a quick flash of lightning, a large dark shape passed him overhead. He looked up, straining his vision to the starry sky to see if he could spot whatever had just flown past him. It took him all of two seconds to see the dark red underside of two long wings that carried a dark blue and white body through the air. The bird circled around him once, then twice. On the third time, the lumbering began to grow closer and steadier. He turned his attention away from the bird and stared directly ahead. Then the beast burst from the forest, and stared down at the Rock Nation trainee with his remaining eye.

"Cranidos?" Rhyperior said.

He looked up at the sky. Cranidos followed his vision, staring at the bird as it began to fold its wings up. It started to nosedive towards the ground, a nosedive that, to Cranidos' horror, was headed right for him.

"Honchkrow!" Rhyperior snapped. "Relax. It's one of ours."

Faster than Cranidos had ever seen anything move in his life, the bird whose name was Honchkrow spread his wings out and landed gracefully to Cranidos' right. The Rock Nation trainee stared at the bird. There was a large puff of white feathers on his chest, one that nearly hid his small yellow beak and serious red eyes. The feathers on his head were formed in the shape of a hat, a hat that made the top of his head line up with the top of Cranidos' own. While Honchkrow's size took away from his formidable look, the lack of humor on his face made him all the more intimidating.

"I'm sorry about Honchkrow here," Rhyperior said. "We thought you may have been a Grass Nation soldier, tailing me and trying to find out where I was going."

"Where are you going?" Cranidos inquired. Despite his father's brutishness, Cranidos wasn't dumb. He knew that Rhyperior's implication was that he wasn't going to the Rock Nation. Otherwise why would he care about what a Grass Nation tail found out about where he was going? And, more importantly, why would he be tagging along with this bird that wasn't even part of the Rock Nation?

Upon hearing Cranidos' question, Honchkrow turned his blank gaze to Rhyperior. "I say we kill him," he offered. "He knows too much."

"No!" Rhyperior shouted, outraged at such a prospect. "This is Rampardos' son! He can be useful to us, if he'll comply."

Honchkrow's face didn't change. "Oh, good," he said. "Yet another mouth to feed."

"I don't understand," Cranidos interjected. "What do I need to comply with?"

Rhyperior sighed. "Alright," he said. "Listen, kid. Your father and I, we're involved in something much bigger than the wars between Nations. We're fighting a war against an enemy that hides within each and every single Nation. They can't be seen, and some say they can't be stopped. What they want is absolute control of all Nations. But we don't want to see that happen. So in order to make sure that every Nation stays free, we have to ally with members of them in order to keep our enemies from destroying everything we've built."

His condescending tone told Cranidos he was lying to him. There was more to it than what he was telling him, and some of what he was saying may not even have been true. Still, though, now that he had been informed of a secret war within the Nations, his curiosity was peaked.

Rhyperior continued. "I want to tell you more, but right now it's urgent that we leave Grass Nation's territory as soon as we can. We're on our way to another Nation. Not the Rock Nation, but one that will soon be our haven. Once we're there, I can explain everything to you."

"Before we go, I just have one question."

Rhyperior sighed. "Okay, I'll permit it. But we must hurry."

"These Pokémon that we'll be fighting against," Cranidos inquired, "who are they? What do they want?"

Honchkrow answered the question for him. When he did, a small, bright fire rose in his eyes. "They call themselves Wardens," he rasped. "They want to take away any semblance of peace in the world."

Rhyperior nodded. "That's right," he affirmed. "Now come on. For your father's sake, join us."

Rhyperior didn't wait for an answer of confirmation. He simply began to lumber into the forest while Honchkrow took off for the skies.

At the mention of joining this war for the sake of his father, Cranidos had an epiphany. While killing Chikorita would avenge his father's death, joining in this war and fighting against the Wardens (an ironic name given that they wanted to destroy the peace instead of protect it) would be a way to keep his work going. Pride swelled up in him. His father had been part of something great, and he had taken the secret to his grave. Had he lived longer, Cranidos was sure that he would have told him everything he needed to know about this secret war. He would fight this war on his father's behalf, and do everything he could to preserve his memory. And the best part was, he would be able to watch even more Pokémon die! Maybe he could even test-torture a few, just to see how much a Pokémon of Chikorita's stature could handle before succumbing to death.

Feeling a ray of hope in his heart, Cranidos followed Rhyperior into the dark forest, their feet leading them to an unknown haven.


	63. Charmander XVI

**Charmander**

The muffled sob didn't escape his ears. Charmander sat up in bed, his eyes wide as they attempted to adjust to the darkness of the room. At first he thought he was still in Ivysaur's house, still waiting for everyone to wake up so they could make their trek to Ivy City. But they were in Ivy City now, nothing but the bittersweet results of the day holding an impression. In his groggy state Charmander wasn't too sure if what he just thought made any sense. But in this same state, it felt like it did.

He could hear the distinct sound of stifled sobs coming from the kitchen. He wasn't sure if this was what had awoken him, or if it had been and ending to a dream he couldn't quite remember. He could remember some kind of falling darkness, not him falling, but a tar-like existence that was slowly dripping away on all sides of him. He woke up feeling cold, but that was only momentary before the crying touched his hearing. If he hadn't been on the outside of Bayleef's bed, he probably wouldn't have gotten up to hear what it was. The only thing keeping him from doing so in a quicker fashion was Torchic, who had her head buried in his chest.

He slowly pulled away from her, careful not to shift in a way that would wake her up. When she was no longer touching him, he felt a tug at his heart. Like a leash, it was calling him to be with her. To just stay for a little while longer. The sobbing could wait. Right now, after the battle they'd all just endured, he needed to be at peace. But he couldn't just ignore the sounds, not when he knew the pain this world associated with them.

As he stepped down from the bed, Charmander turned his head to the right, just slightly enough so he could see Piplup's sleeping figure. _Only_ Piplup. He sighed inwardly. It was great that Froakie liked Chikorita as much as he did, but to start sneaking away at night to be with her in a house that had a _Grass Nation Senator_ sleeping in it was suicide. If Froakie wasn't caught it would be a miracle. It was, Charmander decided, in all of their best interests to talk to him when the morning came.

Walking out of the room, he stopped in the doorway. He stared into the kitchen, seeing with a bit of fright the one Pokemon he hadn't expected to see (and, admittedly, had forgotten about). Turtwig. He was sitting on one of the chairs, which had been pulled fairly far out from the table. The leaves of the branch on his head were drooped, as was his head. Charmander didn't need to see him to know tear stains were on the chair and floor below.

Turtwig didn't notice his approach. His head and his eyes were facing the floor, unaware of Charmander's presence, only aware of his pain. He stopped a few feet from him, shifting his feet a bit. He didn't know Turtwig personally. All he knew was that the Rock Nation had wanted him for something important, something that he was starting to think wasn't exactly what they'd thought it was. But it was too late to be thinking about the specifics of what Rhyperior had said, nor to ponder his reaction to Chikorita's seismic display of power. All that mattered now was that he tried to comfort him, despite not knowing why he was upset and how to make it better.

"Hey," he whispered, wondering if this was a good way to start the conversation.

Turtwig looked up and glared at him, his lips pressed together in a grimace of hatred. He sniffed, and in the dim light emanating from the windows in the living room, Charmander saw a tear pass down his cheek. "The hell do you want?" he whispered.

"Are you alright?" Charmander responded, now not sure if he should just leave Turtwig to whatever was bothering him or if he should at least attempt to comfort him.

"Why does it matter?" he asked, looking back down at the chair. He was silent. Charmander turned to go, now uncertain that he could do anything for the trainee he barely knew. Maybe it was better for him to leave him to his grief. Or not, as before he could turn around all the way, he spoke again. "Why did you have to save me?"

Charmander looked back at him. The tears were really flowing now, cascading down his cheeks like small waterfalls. "I…" Charmander looked down at his feet. "We had to. The Council told us we had to save you. They wanted you home, so we brought you home."

"Home?" Turtwig shook his head. "No. This shithole isn't home."

Inquisitive, Charmander squinted in the darkness. "What, did you want to stay prisoner of the Rock Nation forever?"

"Of course not! I would have found a way to escape, even without your help!"

Charmander didn't want to get off on the wrong foot with this trainee. The last thing he wanted was to start a fight with him, one that couldn't be reconciled not only because of the different Nations they came from, but also because of their dispositions. "Turtwig, what's wrong?"

Turtwig sighed. "You'd never understand," he said. "Besides, you're from the Fire Nation. Why would I confide in someone that's not even my ally?"

"Well today I am your ally." Turtwig looked at him in confusion. Charmander sighed. He didn't want to tell this to a trainee from Grass Nation, especially one that he didn't know. The last thing he wanted was to come off as weak. But he also wanted to understand Turtwig's pain. Something inside of him pulled him towards wanting this alliance. Maybe it was the time he'd spent with other Pokémon from other Nations. Or maybe it was just a part of his nature that was revealing itself for the first time. But he knew, _knew_ , that if he didn't do this now, there was no way to get the truth out of him?

Why did he want to know so badly? He didn't know why. It just felt right.

"I know what it's like to be in pain. Everyone here does. Everyone other trainee in this house right now is an orphan. Froakie and Chikorita's fathers just recently died. Piplup's is probably dead, no matter how little he probably wants to believe it. And Torchic…she watched Garchomp from the Ground Nation kill her father and mine. And all of our mother's died when we were young. All except Froakie's, who disappeared. And now we're here, being forced into battle by a Nation that four of us aren't even loyal to."

"Make it five," Turtwig scoffed. "You don't understand anything."

"I don't understand because you aren't telling me what's wrong!"

Turtwig sighed. "I get it," he said. "I really do. I'm sorry about what happened to your father. And I'm sorry about what happened to everyone else's parents. Especially Chikorita. Meganium was awesome. I wish he'd been my father instead of the one I have."

Charmander wanted to slap himself on the forehead. His appeals for emotion may have gotten through to the Grass Nation trainee, but not in the way Charmander had intended. He sat down in the chair adjacent to Turtwig's. He stayed silent, now starting to regret even getting to talking about the subject. Sure, there had been times where he and his father had fought. He could still vividly remember the day where he'd wanted to jostle himself into battle right after his training had begun. The fight then had been brutal, verbal atrocity after verbal atrocity being flung at his father, while the stern, commanding boom of Charizard's voice laid down the rules, nearly shaking the foundation of the house in a metaphorical and literal way. But he'd never hated him. The tears that had stung his eyes when he'd died were enough to make him understand that. If Turtwig didn't want to touch the subject, he wasn't going to make him.

Still, he was in awe as to why he wanted to talk to this Grass Nation Pokémon he barely knew in the first place. So what if he was crying? Sure, it was an asshole move not to make sure he was alright, but to pry for information like this felt so unnatural. Clunky, almost. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep.

"Ever since I was little, my father's always hated me. And I guess that's just made me hate him. My mother…Arceus, I don't even know why I'm telling you this."

"Maybe it'll make you feel better," Charmander suggested, almost putting a claw on Turtwig's shoulder before deciding physical contact like that might make him go back into his shell.

Turtwig sighed. "Okay. Right. Not like I'm revealing any Grass Nation secrets or anything. Or that I care. My mother died giving birth to me. Senator Torterra's first child, already coming into the world by killing the woman he loves. My mother wasn't another Torterra, in case you were wondering. She was a Sceptile."

Charmander's eyes widened. Inter-species couples weren't uncommon, but he'd only ever heard of inter-species couples bearing children a couple of times. Most of the time Pokémon stuck to their own kind, as it kept their bloodlines pure and allowed for a lack of genetic instability. Even in those of the same types yet of different species, issues could arise in their young that made their abilities more unique, either less powerful or more powerful depending. There were never any defects that caused offspring to be unable to live just as other regular Pokémon did, although bi-polar disorder, anxiety, and in some cases psychosis had been reported in enough children that most inter-species couples refrained from having any. All of this information was from a textbook Charmander had had to read prior to his officiation as a Fire Nation trainee. The fact that he could still remember that many details from something so small from a time out of mind made him wish he could sleep late and regain a semblance of composure in his brain.

He couldn't imagine what could go wrong with a child of two Pokémon not just of different species, but of different types as well.

Turtwig carried on. "All my life it's been one wrong thing after another. Sometimes it would be not doing the chores, or not training hard enough. He started training me long before I could even make up by mind about being a Great Warrior. When I was just three years old he would kick me against the wall until I fought back. But I didn't want to fight back. I don't want to fight back. He forced me into this life because it was the life he'd always live, and since I'd killed the only thing in this world he's ever loved, he decided he had to turn me into what he wanted me to be. Not…not what I want to be."

"And what do you want to be, Turtwig?" Charmander asked.

Turtwig looked at him, his face set in concentrated determination. "I want to be a medic," he said. "I want to help heal those who are sick and wounded. But as long as Torterra's my father, I'll never be able to do that. He always gives me one day out of the week off, which is a relief, at least. That day I say that I hang out with friends, but really, I don't have any. I just go to the library and read as many books about medicine as I can, so one day, when my father is finally dead, I can follow my passion. But knowing my luck it'll be me who has to replace him on the Council. And now that he's a big shot, maybe they'll want me to lead.

"I don't want to lead anything, though. I don't want to contribute like that. I want to be able to help others. Even if I'm able to save the life of just one wounded soldier, make the child of a Pokémon of war smile because their father or mother are finally coming home, and that they're safe and smiling because _I did something about it_ …that's all I want. I just want to save lives."

Turtwig glared down at his feet. "I wish you'd never saved me," he said. "I wish I was dead."

"Do you really?" Charmander asked.

Turtwig trained his glare on him. "Death is probably better than here."

"But if you die, then how will you save all those Pokémon? How will you become the medic you want to be? Turtwig, just because your father doesn't approve doesn't mean you can't do it. It might take time, and you may have to keep appeasing him for a while longer, but that doesn't mean it won't happen."

Turtwig looked down. "Just leave me alone," he whispered.

Charmander sighed. He turned and hopped off the chair. Before he'd made it a few paces, Turtwig's voice caught his ears. "Did you mean that?" he asked. "What you just said?"

Charmander turned back. "Yes," he said. "I did."

Turtwig stared at him, his expression unreadable in the dim dark. Then, he spoke, changing the subject. "You'd better hope your Water Nation friend is out of Chikorita's bed by the morning. It hurts to have my father stomp on you."

Charmander didn't get a chance to respond as Turtwig hopped off the chair and went into Meganium's bedroom. Which, Charmander realized, his heart thumping at a million miles an hour, had been open during their entire conversation. Pushing the possibility of eavesdropping to the back of his mind, Charmander silently tiptoed his way back to the trainee room. He wanted to think of it as Bayleef's room, but he wasn't so sure what the official title of the room was anymore. If anything, it was just "Their Bedroom."

He climbed back into bed. Before he could rest his head on his pillow, however, Piplup's popped up from his side of the bed. Charmander didn't need to see the beckoning flipper before he was crawling his way down the bed to his friend. He stopped where Froakie should have been. It was at this point that Piplup seemed to notice he was gone, and he shook his head. "I swear I am going to punch him so hard once he wakes up," he vowed.

"Never mind that," Charmander said. "What's up?"

"What's up? What's up is that you and Turtwig whisper about as softly as the sound of battle! I heard everything you said."

Charmander's face reddened. He looked over at Torchic, who was still asleep and breathing softly. "Relax," Piplup said. "She never even woke up."

"Good," Charmander replied, although his mind was now occupied with the real possibility that Torterra had. He pushed it from his mind. If he'd heard what he son had said about him, Charmander would find out in the morning. For now it wasn't his problem. For now he just had to stay awake long enough to have a coherent conversation with Piplup.

"At least that ungrateful little shit _has_ a father," Piplup said. He looked at Charmander, as though he were waiting for him to respond. Then he shook his head. "Never mind. I'm tired. I'm going to bed." With that, Piplup put his head on his pillow and breathed in deeply, letting it out before his breath became normalized.

So much for that conversation Charmander thought they were about to have.

Charmander crawled back to his side of the bed. He curled up beneath the blanket. Like his movement had cued her subconscious, Torchic nuzzled into his chest, resuming the position of curling up next to him that she'd done in her sleep before his excursion with Turtwig. With only the briefest hesitation, Charmander wrapped his arms around her. He rested his chin on top of her head, feeling the warmth and fuzziness of her feathers against his skin. He could get used to this, he realized. The thought of being like this with her every night made him smile.

As he drifted off to sleep, he began to wonder what had truly spurred on his decision to talk so deeply with the Grass Nation trainee. He didn't know him, yet he'd gone up to him all the same and conversed with him in a way that he shouldn't have given the unfamiliarity between them. Not to mention the Nation barrier that should have made any connection impossible. But a spark had formed, small and insignificant, but existent nonetheless. But why had he even attempted to make the spark in the first place?

 _For Tepig, that's why_.

The thought came to him with such naturalness that he didn't even question it. Nor did he question the dream he had. Running through the tall grass again, a shadow stalking him. The moon was nothing more than a sliver in the sky, barely illuminating anything around him. But there was a light, bright and orange, square in shape, calling to him. He ran as fast as his stubby legs would carry him, attempting to converge with the light, to finally make it there.

The shadow was gaining. There was barely any time to think, only to see, and what he saw was a small wooden house, one that looked familiar, although he couldn't place where he'd once seen it before. He ran to the door and began to pound on it, and a voice that wasn't his emanated from his mouth. "Hey! Let me in, please! There's something out here!"

It took ten seconds. The shadow was gaining. Then it stopped, staying hidden within the tall grass as the door was pulled open, the orange light slowly slanting outdoors. He squinted, his eyes only widening when he saw who was on the other side.

"Aw shit," Ivysaur groaned. "Another one."


	64. Piplup XI

**Piplup**

"Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"For risking our position here, that's what!"

Piplup whispered these words to Froakie after punching him in the arm to wake him up. Despite the fact that he had flippers and therefore couldn't properly make a fist, Piplup's smack still packed enough energy to get Froakie out of his love-struck stupor. It had been bad enough that Piplup had found him nuzzled beside Chikorita in her bed, their faces so close together he could practically tell they'd been kissing before dozing off to sleep. And whatever else they might have been doing were thoughts Piplup would rather keep out of the clean confines of his brain, thank you ever so kindly. What would have made their situation even worse would have been in Torterra had woken up early and discovered them. Despite having a sore arm, Froakie should have been thankful.

But instead he glared at his friend, the friend he'd known for so long that the two of them were almost like brothers. "Are we really going to go through this again?" he growled. "Don't you think this is a little redundant?"

Piplup was nearly taken aback by Froakie's harsh tone. Never in his life, even when he'd pissed him off pretty badly, had Piplup heard that edge in his voice before. But it was there now, a shard of glass etching itself into his vocal cords and revealing something he'd never once held outwardly before: Hatred. Hatred for Piplup? No, perhaps a projection for something else. It was easy to see what that something else was. Maybe Froakie knew or maybe he didn't, but Piplup understood the want for vengeance that was probably stirring in him. The worst part of it was that it wasn't just for him. It was for the Grass Nation trainee he'd been in bed with the night before too.

"Froakie, come on," Piplup said. "I'm just looking out for you."

"Well I don't need any looking out for," Froakie spat. "Piplup, tell me you understand why I feel the way I do?"

Piplup refrained from doing this. He'd rather not upset his friend with any of his theories anyway, theories that were too grounded in reality, ones that Froakie would easily dismiss as false but that Piplup knew to be true. So he let Froakie speak, no matter how flawed his speech was.

"Piplup, I love her, okay? We've both dealt with so much together. We've lost our parents, Piplup. All of us. And it just so happens that Chikorita and I, we found each other's comfort in a way that's less platonic than what you have with everyone else. Hell, it's probably stronger than whatever Charmander and Torchic have going on. Or what they _will_ have going on, because let's be honest, those two are made for each other."

"Your point?" Piplup snapped.

"My point is that I'll admit it, what you're probably thinking. That this is all just for comfort. And you're right, that's what it started as. But Piplup…Piplup, I love her. I _love_ her. And there's nothing you can do to change that."

He was right. There was nothing he could do to keep Froakie from misguiding himself. It wasn't that they were of different Nations that angered Piplup, not anymore. What angered him was how foolishly selfish his friend was being. How careless he was to walk into Chikorita's room and sleep beside her, with the door wide open so that anyone would be able to see their bodies pressed against one another's the moment they left their rooms. How he wasn't just risking himself, but all of them. They were in a foreign Nation, one that had plans to use them as bargaining chips as soon as the chance arose. This was Hell, and it was great that Froakie was making the most of it, but couldn't he do it in a more discrete way?

Piplup sighed. There was no point to it, not anymore. "Just promise me you'll be a bit more careful?" he said. "I…I don't care that you're doing this. That you love her. Fine. Great. Whatever. But I don't want to see you get hurt. I care about you, Froakie. You're pretty much the only family I have left and I…shit, man. I don't wanna lose you too."

Froakie's eyes widened and softened, like he was seeing the situation clearly for the first time. "Oh, crap," he said. He got out of bed and stood beside his friend. He looked down at Chikorita, whose face was still turned to the empty spot in the bed where Froakie had once lain. Froakie stared at her for a moment, his eyes shining with a realization that made Piplup want to smack himself on the forehead. How had he not seen it before? Froakie must have been even more love-struck than Piplup had realized. Perhaps there was a truth to it, after all.

Froakie turned to Piplup, his friend, his brother. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just…I just get so caught up with her that I lose myself. And it feels so good to lose myself that I just end up, well, lost. You know?"

"No," Piplup said. "I don't. Honestly, I probably never will. Just don't lose yourself, because I can't lose you."

Froakie nodded. As if on cue, Torterra's lumbering footsteps vibrated slightly through the house as he got out of bed. The vibration was just enough to wake Chikorita, whose eyes opened in a violent display of fury and fear. Whatever nightmare she'd just awoken from, her body and sleeping facial expression hadn't revealed any of the details. She stared at the Water Nation trainees at her bedside, first looking at Froakie, then at Piplup. "Is there trouble?" she asked.

Piplup shook his head. "I was just coming in to wake you guys," he said. "Froakie wanted to let you sleep longer."

"Well, it sounds like Torterra has other plans," Chikorita stretched and hopped out of bed on her side. They all converged at the foot of the bed, just as Torterra exited Meganium's room. He swung his head from side to side, as if that would help to relieve the sleep from his eyes. He stared at the trainees in Chikorita's room, a glare forming on his face. "What's this?" he asked.

"What's what?" Piplup inquired.

"I thought it was implied that I didn't want any Pokémon from other Nations going into Chikorita's room," the Grass Nation Senator said.

"We were waking her up," Froakie said. "We've all been awake for a little while, but she hadn't woken up yet."

"And why would you wake her up?"

"You told us we should be ready to train by the time the sun crests the horizon." This was Charmander, walking over from the kitchen where Torchic still sat by an empty plate with a few pancake crumbs sprinkled on it. "Torchic and I made pancakes if you'd like some, but you'd better hurry up. The sun came up ten minutes ago."

Torterra's glared darted towards Charmander. The look of formality Charmander gave the Grass Nation Senator was enough to give Piplup a chill down his spine. Piplup knew he had a defiant streak about him, but he also knew there was a time and a place for behavior like that. What the hell was Charmander's deal here?

Luckily, Torterra ignored him, instead addressing everyone as a crowd. "Alright," he said. "Today is your day of training. As much as I'd like to accompany you all, I'm afraid that due to Meganium's death, I have important Council matters to take care of. You will be accompanied by twelve guards to the Training Quarters, a good eighth of a mile walk from where we are now. Along with them will be Sir Ferrothorn, your designated overseer. If you do anything even remotely suspicious, he has orders to report to me."

He turned his attention to Chikorita now. "Chikorita," he said, "I apologize for talking about your father's death in such a casual manner. I am truly sorry for what happened. He was a great friend, and I will miss him. If you feel as though you need to step out at any time during training today, you may do so."

"I understand," Chikorita said, and while she was attempting to keep her composure, Piplup couldn't help but notice how wet her eyes looked.

Torterra stared into her eyes for a moment longer, as if he were having trouble processing the whirlwind of emotion within them. At last, he raised his head and looked around the room. Searched, actually. Then after a moment, he asked, "Where is my son?"

"Bathroom," Charmander replied.

Torterra gave him another hard look before lumbering towards the front door. "I will see all of you tonight," he said. "And remember what I told you; Ferrothorn reports directly to me!"

With that, Torterra walked through the semi-hole in the wall that was being widened so he could properly fit in via two side-by-side doors. A toilet flushed, and thirty silent seconds later, Turtwig emerged from the bathroom. "Is he gone?" he asked.

"Yeah, he's gone," Charmander confirmed. "Are you alright?"

"I…yeah." Turtwig put his head down, almost as though he were ashamed. Piplup knew he'd overheard Torterra brought up in the conversation he'd had with Charmander last night, something about a strenuous relationship, but he'd been half asleep. He couldn't remember a thing except that the two of them were talking much louder than they apparently perceived. That was enough information for him. He was dealing with enough problems on his own and with his friends from other Nations that he didn't want to start dealing with those of a trainee he barely knew.

"Alright," Charmander said, glancing around the room. "I know we're not going to talk about it unless someone brings it up, so I'll be that guy who brings it up. We can't stay here."

"Well no shit we can't," Turtwig replied. "We're going to the Training Quarters, remember?"

"No, it's not that. It's us. The rest of us can't stay in the Grass Nation. We have something we have to do."

Piplup nodded. "I agree," he said. "The sooner we can get out of here, the sooner we can do what we need to do."

"Wait, hold on," Turtwig interrupted. "You mean to tell me that there's something the Fire and Water Nation need to do together? What, are your Nations forming an alliance or something?"

Piplup exchanged a look with Charmander. While his own look was meant to signify whether or not to tell Turtwig about the Wardens and Reapers, the look Charmander gave him was more upfront about it. He clearly wanted Turtwig to know, even if he didn't have a stake in it. Some pieces of the conversation were coming back now. How Turtwig had wanted to be a medic, yet his father had forced him down the path of a Great Warrior. How it had made Piplup angry, because at least he had a father he could come home to.

Then again, what good is a father if all they do is treat you like you don't matter?

"There's a war coming," Charmander said, which sounded a little too generic for Piplup's taste. Luckily, it didn't stay that way. "It's not like the one we've got right now. It's bigger, between two groups of Pokémon of all different types of Nations. We don't know who's involved yet, or if every Nation really is involved. The point is, we've had run-ins with Pokémon from a group that wants to destroy everything we've ever known. It sounds crazy, but it's true. And we're on our way to join a group that wants to stop them."

Turtwig was silent for a moment, ponderous. The information hadn't gone through him with shock; rather, he was allowing it to simmer in his mind. At last he looked up, stared Charmander in the eyes, and said, "You do realize how crazy you sound, right?"

"Do you know about the Water Nation?" Piplup found himself saying, even though all of his instinct was telling him the more he kept his mouth shut the better everything would be. Still, he couldn't stop the facts from tumbling out. "They destroyed Aquarius, Turtwig. The capital. My home. Froakie's father…they killed our fathers, Turtwig. They killed everyone."

 _They didn't kill my father._ He wanted to say it out loud, but knew he couldn't. Knew somehow that it might not be true. That he really could be dead. He couldn't say it out loud, though. Couldn't risk that he was lying to himself, because once it was out loud it could be true. But he'd just said he was dead. Could that be true? Yes. But if his father was dead, perhaps he wasn't suffering at the hands of madmen.

 _Stop_ , he thought. _Now is not the time._

Turtwig's eyes widened. "Holy shit. Are you serious?"

"I watched my father's throat get cut in front of my own eyes," Froakie replied, stepping beside Piplup as he did so. "If that's not enough for you, I don't know what is."

"We can't go over every piece of evidence for it right now," Torchic chimed in. "Not if this Ferrothorn is going to be coming soon to cart us off to the Training Quarters. The point is, we need to find out how to leave, when, and what our best course of action is once we're out of here."

"Right," Charmander said. "Torchic and I were brainstorming a bit over pancakes and we have a bit of an idea as to what we can do. We were thinking we leave in a few nights. Keep things docile for a little while, especially after the battle we've just had. Train, but don't train as hard as you would if there was about to be another battle. The point is, we need to conserve as much energy as possible for, say, five days or so. Given that I was able to have a conversation with Turtwig last night that Piplup was able to hear but Torterra couldn't, it shouldn't be too hard to sneak out of the house without being caught. After we get out, Torchic was saying we should try and find those two Wardens you met, Chikorita. What were their names again?"

"Um, Krookodile and Tyrunt," she said, although the way she said it sounded far away, like she was thinking of something else as she uttered their names. Piplup didn't know if it was just him noticing or not, as Charmander continued to speak.

"Right, thanks. So given that we're on the northern side of the world, it's probable that the Wardens have some sort of headquarters operating just outside of the boundaries of our Nations. I say that we should head north and see if we can find anything. If we can't, we can always try for down South. In reality, we're miniscule pieces in a huge game of chess we can't even fathom right now. We don't know if we're going to find them. But that's okay. We have to at least try, if we can."

"I'm not going," Chikorita blurted out.

Piplup glanced at her, stunned though not shocked. Froakie, however, was staring wide-eyed and wide-mouthed at her, like she'd just announced that she was going to end her life. "What?" he stammered. "Chik…wait, hold on! I thought you wanted to do this with us!"

"That was before my father died," she said, the leaf on top of her head drooping along with her head. "I just don't think I can leave right now. And besides, like Charmander just said, we're miniscule pieces in a game of chess we know nothing about."

"Chikorita…" Froakie trailed off, then held his arm as though he'd been stabbed there. And, for a wonder, Piplup pondered if such a thing were possible. That love could make someone feel so much guilt or pain that they could get hurt. Piplup sighed. He hoped he'd never have to deal with something like that.

"How about you, Turtwig?" Charmander asked. "Would you like to go with us?"

Turtwig thought again for a moment. Then he lifted his head and met Charmander's eyes. "Do you remember what you said to me last night? About how it doesn't matter what Torterra says and that I should follow the path I want?"

"Yeah," Charmander replied. "I remember. And you want to be a medic, right?"

"Yes," Turtwig said.

"And if you came with us that would get in the way of your passion, right?"

Turtwig hesitated. Piplup could see him wrestling with it in his mind, whether or not he would rather escape his father or try to will it out and follow the path he wanted to take. At last, a light shone in his eyes, one of determination that Piplup almost felt pride for. Turtwig had been so mopey since he'd met him that it was jarring (although _comfortably_ jarring) to see his eyes alight with the fire of determination. "I…"

His answer was interrupted by the door opening. And when it opened, Piplup was greeted to the most monstrous looking Pokémon he had ever seen in his life. It was nothing more than two orange eyes in a flattened, steel disk, with three green, spiked tendrils poking out of it. Spikes covered the body, and although he wasn't that big, there was an intimidating factor to his look that made Piplup nearly shake with fear. Ferrothorn.

And then he spoke.

"Oh, hey guys! So it looks like I'll be taking you to the Training Quarters, if you're all set to go. I know Torterra was probably all militant with you, saying things like how you had to be up at the crack of dawn or whatever. But the world's changing and shit, so don't try and train all that hard today, ya know? Like, you just got back from a battle and he's already putting you back on the training dummies? More like he's the dummy, am I right or am I right?"

The trainees stared at Ferrothorn in silence. Piplup attempted to suppress a bit of a grin at this out of nowhere cheery attitude coming from someone who looked like, well, like _Ferrothorn_ did, but he didn't know how good a job he was doing at keeping his emotions hidden.

"Okay, cool," Ferrothorn replied to the lukewarm response. He turned away from the group and began walking outside, using his three green tendrils with green spike-balls at the end of them to hoist himself forward. It was the most awkward display of walking Piplup had ever observed. "Alright, let's go! Time's a-wastin'!"

"We'll talk about your decision when we get back," Charmander whispered, his serious tone making it seem as though it was life and death.

And, Piplup thought as they were led through the streets of Ivy City surrounded by twelve guards and a Great Warrior at the head of the party, it truly was. Despite how absurd the idea of Wardens and Reapers were at first glance, the truth was there. They had more proof than they'd ever wish they could have that such parties existed and operated within the world. And now they were about to inject themselves into their conflict.

Piplup didn't know if he was ready or not. All he knew was that Feraligatr and Kabutops, names from so long ago, wouldn't get away with what they did. He would find his father alive, he had to keep faith in that idea. And he hoped he would find Feraligatr alive too, so he could jam a silver flipper through his throat.

To finally have some satisfaction in this dreary world.


	65. Froakie V

**Froakie**

"Adamant" was never something Froakie thought of himself as. He had been self-aware enough in his youth to understand he was "the passive one," the one who, while always willing to kill in battle as any trainee could, was never quite as confrontational around his peers as he was on the field. That isn't to say that he was a punching bag; becoming well-acquainted with Piplup at an early age had been enough to squash any semblance of weakness he had in that regard. Still, he never would have pinned himself as someone willing to do something, something risky, especially, without thinking about it first.

Which was why, while night had fallen and the stars were twinkling through the window, hoisted into the night sky by a God Pokémon that Froakie was admittedly beginning to believe in less and less, Froakie leapt down from the bed. He turned, ensuring no one on the bed had heard him. And why would they? After a hard day of training (he thought maybe he'd been the only one that had heeded Ferrothorn's advice on not training too hard), they'd all managed to get to sleep rather quickly. Piplup's head was turned in the other direction, however, making it difficult for Froakie to decipher whether or not he was asleep. Torchic and Charmander, on the other hand, were facing the same direction, Charmander unconsciously spooning his fellow Fire Nation trainee, both of their eyes tightly shut. Torchic's eyes especially, as though the dream she was having was a rather serious one.

No matter. What mattered most was that Froakie couldn't tell whether or not Piplup's eyes were open. If they were, that would mean a hell of a lot of trouble for him, even if he really was just sneaking off to have a talk.

Fine. So be it. If Piplup wanted to come after him, he could. But he couldn't stop Froakie from doing what he felt had to be done. What felt _right_ to do.

Sneaking past the doorway, Froakie walked about eight or so feet before coming to a halt in front of Chikorita's room. He peeked around the corner, his eyes darting towards the bed. Her figure was so small on such an oversized mattress that for a moment he thought the bed was empty, save for the pillows where she rested her head every night. Then he breathed a sigh of relief. It had just been a trick of the dark; he could see the outline of her figure breathing in and out, the deep breathing sleep. She must have looked so peaceful, like she had in the morning despite Piplup's rude awakening. Still, he'd been right about all of this. About the risk.

And right now he didn't care. He didn't care because his heart was beating a mile a minute at the thought of a world without her.

Slowly, Froakie approached the side of her bed. The window up above, with its thick curtain covering any light emitting from the moon, stars, and streets, let in a small slant from beneath it. Here he could see it cascaded upon her face, her beautiful face, locked in a look of pure serenity that Froakie thought maybe it was best not to disturb her. Still, he felt it pulling at him, the one thing he'd barely every felt in his life but was now consumed with: Greed.

He knew it was greed that influenced what he was about to do. He wished it wasn't, wished that what he was doing was truly for Chikorita's benefit. But the fact of the matter was that she had just lost her father for the second time. And this time there would be no do-over. He was gone. Froakie understood her pain, but he knew it wasn't the same pain he'd felt. His father was dead. He knew that, knew it as well as he knew that he was going to do everything in his power to make sure Feraligatr paid for it. And Chikorita, she'd known, she'd been _convinced_ her father was dead, and that he was never going to come back. But he had. He'd come back to her, and her in joy didn't realize how much grief there could have been if everything went wrong. Then it did go wrong, and now she was here. Now she was a sleeping trainee in the Grass Nation who, despite wanting to just a few short days ago, didn't want to leave. She would rather just stay in the Nation and not be bothered with any outer conflicts.

The issue, however, was that Froakie needed her. And that was why he caressed her cheek as softly as he could. Her eyes fluttered open, their red irises emoting the opposite of their color. A smile crept onto her face. "What happened to not coming back?" she asked.

Froakie couldn't suppress a grin of his own. Chikorita shifted away from him in the bed, giving him just enough room to pull the covers back and climb in. As he enwrapped himself in the blankets, she enwrapped herself in him, snuggling close to him, her head just under his chin. He placed his chin atop her head, making sure not to crush her leaf in the process. They sat like that for a while, merely listening to one another breathe. Froakie could feel the dark tendrils of sleep pulling him in, beckoning that this wasn't something he had to do now, to wait until the morning, to enjoy the night with the Pokémon he loved. But greed won out. Greed always wins out.

"You know I'm going, don't you?" Froakie asked.

"Hm?" Chikorita asked, her voice revealing her sleepiness.

"Charmander's plan," Froakie stated bluntly. "I'm going. You know that, right?"

Chikorita backed out of his embrace. "I had a feeling you'd say that," she sighed. "But Froakie, you know you'll always have a place in the Grass Nation."

"That's not true," Froakie replied. "Listen, Chikorita, it doesn't matter whether I want to go or not. I _have_ to go. If everyone else sneaks off in the middle of the night and I'm the only one from a foreign Nation that gets left behind, I'm going to get questioned. They'll cut me off from you, with a zero percent chance that we'll ever see one another again. Hell, they might even torture me."

"They would never do that!" Chikorita protested.

"You don't know that!" Froakie was surprised by the forceful tone with which he uttered these words. So was Chikorita, her eyes shining with shock at the fact that he would say something in such a tone. "You don't know that," he repeated, softer. "Your dad's not in charge of the Council anymore. I'm sorry…look. Changes are going to be made, whether you want them to be or not. Whether anyone wants them to happen, they'll be made. And there's nothing we can do about it if those changes involve things getting worse for me or you. If I stay, I might even end up putting you in danger."

"How so?" Chikorita asked, but her bland response told Froakie she already knew what he was going to say.

"You were out on the road with us for weeks. If I stay behind, then you could more easily be labeled as a traitor. They'll think the reason I stayed behind was because the two of us are planning something alongside the escaping trainees. But if I go, then it'll be harder for them to pin you as a traitor. You didn't know we were going to be leaving. You were never part of it."

Froakie had no idea how sound that logic was, but it was enough to get Chikorita to nod sadly. "I guess you're right," she said. "But still, you could always find a way to stay. The outskirts of Ivy City aren't that well-guarded. You could always hunker down somewhere. Maybe I could help you build a little cabin, cut down some trees. We could even get Turtwig involved, maybe have him help us cut down some trees. You could live there. _We_ could live there."

"Chikorita," Froakie started.

"I know how implausible it sounds!" she cried. "But still, Froakie. I can't lose you. After everything I've been through, after everything _we've_ been through…I can't lose you, too."

"Then come with us." Froakie nuzzled closer to her, and she let him, taking her into his embrace once again. "We can all start a new life together. We can find the Wardens. We can make things right again."

"But I don't want to fight anymore," Chikorita said, her voice a barely audible whisper. "I don't want to see anyone else I love get hurt."

"I know. I get that. But Chikorita, look at this world. Look at this place, where we are. There isn't anything we can do except keep living, day by day, and fighting for those we've lost. Sometimes it's hard, but we have to do it. We have to stand by our comrades. We have to…we have to stand by our brothers."

At this, Chikorita's head perked up. Those beautiful, ruby-like eyes gaze into his. Understanding was there, the final understanding. The most important reason of all as to why Froakie was going. There was no anger, as he'd expected. And then he remembered her loss, the loss of a sibling that was just as important to her as Piplup was to him. At last, he felt a great weight being lifted off his chest. She understood.

"Chikorita, you have everyone in the Grass Nation rallying for you. You have a home here. And you have me. And me, I've got you, and I have a purpose, something I feel like I need to do. But Piplup…I know it looks like he's improved, but there's always the chance that if something goes wrong he'll slip right back into the depressive state he was in before any of this. Chikorita, I'm all he has left. I'm his brother, and he needs me more than he knows."

 _And I need him_ , Froakie thought. Not a day had gone by in the past three weeks where Piplup hadn't been on his mind. They were more than simple friends now; now they were nearly blood related in their struggles. To have that ripped from him, and to know that it had been because of what could be construed as betrayal…Froakie didn't want to think about how he's react to such a turn of events.

"I understand," Chikorita admitted. "I understand because I would have done the same for Bayleef. Go, then. But when you do…" She looked up, her cute eyes big and rimmed with tears. "Promise you won't forget about me?"

Froakie pulled her in tightly, kissing her lips. He felt the warmth of her body against his, could feel her starting to move against him in a way she never had before. "I promise," he said. "I'll never leave you. Not in my heart. I love you."

"I love you too," Chikorita whispered, and she was pulling him into her embrace, warm and loving, soft and sweet. Their bodies collided in a fireworks display, Froakie breathing heavily, smiling as his love for her became outward, physical. Her short gasps of pleasure rolled sweetly in his ears as he embraced her in a deep passion. He couldn't control it, the way his body and his heart and his mind and his soul erupted in one last desperate grasp towards a future he knew he could never have. Chikorita's breath hitched with his, gasping at the same time as the last of their fire began to plummet into an abyss it could never crawl out of, not without the hands it had sacrificed for the need to grow stronger.

Froakie held her in his arms until she dozed off. Then, regrettably, he slipped out from her embrace. He wished he could stay there forever, never leaving her side, always to sleep beside her, to forever repeat the last action of the night every night until the day they died. But it could never be like that. No matter how they felt, they had gone in different directions. They had come to the fork in the road. If she loved him more than her Nation, she would have gone with them. And if he'd loved her more than his brother, he would have stayed.

Crawling back into bed, it took a long time for Froakie to fall back to sleep. When he did, he didn't dream. All he did was close his eyes, then open them to the cascading light of dawn. He looked around. Only Piplup was still asleep beside him, his head turned towards him, revealing the nature of his eyes. They were closed.


	66. Torchic V

**Torchic**

Torchic awoke on her own. It wasn't the slight rays of light slanting through the half-open window. Nor was it Charmander's breathing close to her ear (well, what could _constitute_ as an ear). She did it on her own, of her own volition. It was the unconsciousness within her, telling her, beckoning her into the waking world, finally forming the thought of waking up. And then, then she was awake.

It had been days, yet it felt like months. She thought she'd had the same thought only a week or so ago, when they had been out on the road after the destruction of Aquarius. The thought that everything was happening so fast it almost felt like time was slowing down. She could remember everything that had happened in so much vivid detail: The death of her father, the destruction of the Water Nation, Meganium's corpse being dragged into the tent. Every event swiftly passing by to make way for the next one. And now they were prisoners.

But she had been a prisoner this whole time. Hell, they'd all been prisoners this whole time and just hadn't realized it yet. She had, but she didn't know if the others knew it. Charmander appeared to have the notion of it, but she didn't know if it had taken the form of a full-fledged thought in his mind yet. That ever since the Water and Ground Nation's attack at the Red Desert, they had been mere bystanders to their own lives. Nothing they'd experienced since saving Empoleon had been controllable. Everything that happened was by chance, sheer dumb "luck" that they had stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time every single time. It was the cruelest Torchic had ever seen fate act.

Even never knowing her mother had been a more welcoming inevitability than this.

This was just torturous. And now they were Grass Nation slaves. Thank Arceus, she thought, that Charmander had a plan. He had said when introducing it to the rest of the group that it had been a joint effort, a collaboration between the two of them over pancakes. That had been a lie, but Torchic understood why he'd wanted to lie. She'd agreed with every point he'd made, and, running it through her head, realized that with a bit more time she probably would have come to the same conclusion. Running away in the dead of night was the only viable option of escape they had. The glint in Charmander's eyes when he said it made her want to stand up and leave right then and there. His determination, his vision set towards a new future…he was someone Torchic aspired to be like.

How she loved him.

She shifted a bit in bed. That was what woke him up, his arms loosening around her. She sighed, hoping it would last just a little bit longer, that they could be comfortable for just one day. But that didn't happen. Instead his grip loosened on her, and he stared at her, surprised and, to her ire, a bit annoyed. "Is this going to happen every night?" Charmander asked.

"I don't know," Torchic confessed. "Do you want it to?"

Charmander gave her a quizzical look. "I mean, if you're cold and you need me to warm you, of course I can do that. But to pretty much hug me in the middle of the night…you could just ask beforehand. Otherwise it's a little weird."

It was at this point Torchic realized something she'd been a bit privy to given his lack of speech hinting at or directly talking about the subject. When it came to telling when someone liked him in a romantic way, Charmander was an absolute idiot. She guessed all that brainpower went toward concocting plans that made him feel more and more like a leader than it did toward the rudimentary. Like love. She loved him, and she knew that he loved her. But his love for her was buried under a dense bush in a dark cave, one that Charmander wasn't even aware existed. She was certain that he loved her; they'd been together for as long as each of them could remember, so why not? But when he said things like this, without kidding around at all, she couldn't help but wonder. Maybe he was still thinking of Braixen in the back of his mind, instead of about her.

It didn't matter, though. That was the one thing she _knew_ they had in common. They could put aside their needs for the greater good. How this had come to pass so quickly she didn't know, but it was because of the world they were living in now that such a thing, she realized, had to be. Otherwise, there was nothing for them to do except crumble to ashes.

Charmander rolled away from her and jumped off the bed. "I'd love to sleep all day if I could," Charmander confessed. "But the training ground awaits."

"Yeah," Torchic said. "That'll sure be a breeze."

Charmander smirked at her sarcasm. The first smirk she realized had been on his face since Meganium's death. And, truth be told, it wasn't a smirk bright with a slight amusement that most smirks come with. This one looked hollow. Empty. Almost _processing_. Like it didn't realize it was a smirk, but still, it was there, just existing on his face. She felt a chill go up her spine when it appeared on his face.

"Hey," he said. "I will admit, Ferrothorn seems pretty laid back. At least we won't have to worry too much about getting shit from him."

Torchic nodded her agreement, still trying to process the false smile still across Charmander's face. Then, before she could glance at it once more, it faded, replaced by that blank seriousness that had been on his mouth since the last battle. Such a thing was something she admired about him, but it wasn't all of him. It was just a portion, one part that had battled for dominance and won. She didn't entirely know how to feel about that. Sad, yes. But given all they'd been through, she felt like there was barely any time anymore to be sad.

As she hopped down from the bed, she noticed that Piplup and Froakie were no longer in bed. She hoped that the former hadn't had to reprimand the latter again. Everyone could tell how Froakie felt about Chikorita, the way he flaunted it about so openly. She thought they made a good pairing, but she also understood the dangers of having inter-type relationships, especially when one of said lovers is the last remaining daughter of a former Grass Nation Senator. Torterra would quite literally grind Froakie to a pulp if he discovered what was going on. Nevertheless, she put the thought out of her mind. They had just woken up before the two of them was all. Not everything had to be a grand conspiracy.

Although the sight she saw as she left the bedroom gave off an air of conspiracy. Piplup and Froakie's faces were the only ones visible to her. They stared at her with a mixture of rage and contempt. At first she couldn't understand why, but then realized the feelings weren't for her. Their looks were prompting her to get angry. Charmander, it seemed, already was, for his face was stoic. He looked toward Torterra, the other face visible at the table. Turtwig and Chikorita were on the other side of the table, their heads down, unmoving, not seeing the Fire Nation trainees as they approached.

"What's this?" Charmander asked, undeterred by Torterra's imposing figure and stoic, near emotionless visage. Torterra, however, did not reveal anything to either of them. He nodded his head to the last remaining chair at the end of the table.

"How about you take a seat over there?"

Torchic looked at Charmander expectantly, but his face was too hardened for her to understand what he was feeling in its entirety. But she could recognize something no one else could; he'd crossed two of his claws together on his left hand. It was something she'd taken notice of over the years, a very slight thing that she barely saw but understood once she'd seen it enough. When he was nervous about something, nervous to the point that his heart was pounding against his chest and he would begin to hyperventilate slightly, he always crossed two claws on his left hand. This time, however, was different from all the others; the claws didn't stay crossed, and his face didn't break.

He climbed into the chair. Before he even acknowledged Torterra, however, he looked down at Torchic, who was still on the ground. He held his hand out to her, the hand that should have had the crossed claws on them. It was at this point she realized she'd barely made any progress from the doorway of the bedroom, her attention too focused on Charmander's new mannerisms. Embarrassed, she crossed her way through the room, four pairs of eyes on her as she did so. At last, she ran to the chair and jumped up, not needing to grab Charmander's hand to get up there. He couldn't suppress another grin, but this one looked much more genuine. Torchic herself smiled.

"If the two of you are through playing games," Torterra rumbled, "I think we have something very important to discuss."

Torchic turned toward him, taking in the faces of Chikorita and Turtwig as she did so. Chikorita was looking down at the table, shame across her face. Turtwig, on the other hand, was fidgeting slightly, his eyes wide and sweat dripping off of his leaf and forehead. He refused to make eye contact with the new arrivals, but Chikorita, after a few seconds, did turn her head towards them. She shook it slightly; this was not good news. Torchic could already see that.

"As I've already informed your friends," Torterra said, "I know all about the little escape plan the two of you concocted."

Torchic's eyes widened. She couldn't help it; based on everyone else's reactions, she knew he'd probably gotten the truth out of them somehow. It was just natural instinct. But Charmander, he remained stoic. "You know," he said. "I see."

He glanced to his left. Torchic followed his gaze, a gaze that rested on the jittering, nervous body of Turtwig. Torchic felt an awful rage fill up within her. It was like the fires of Hell had just jutted burning coals into her heart. Turtwig had betrayed them. Even after everything they'd done for him, even after they'd essentially brought him back from the dead, even when Meganium _died_ trying to save him. He'd still betrayed them all.

Torterra's gaze locked with Charmander's for what seemed like an eternity. Torchic's heart was racing with anger, fear, and the general feeling that something awful was about to happen. Their eyes were like blades, each one of them jutting in, feeling around for one another's souls in the wounds they made. It was surreal to see a standoff such as this, the most intimidating Grass Nation Senator versus a scrawny Fire Nation trainee. And yet the conviction and seriousness in both of their gazes were equal to one another. Such a thing shouldn't have been possible. And yet, it was as it was.

At last, Torterra sighed. "I'm not going to stop you."

Charmander's eyes widened then. Piplup and Froakie perked up in surprise, their heads swiveling around to face the Grass Nation Senator. Chikorita, bewildered, as if she hadn't heard him correctly, gave him a confused look. Even Turtwig was shocked by this turn of events. Torchic herself felt a great weight being lifted off of her chest. It was like all the stress she'd ever felt had dissipated into thin air, nothing but an acrid smoke she would never have to breathe in again.

"I've done a bit of reflecting, since you all saved my son's life," Torterra explained. "I know what Shaymin wants. I know she wants to use you all as pawns in this war. And, to an extent, I'd like to as well. I'll admit that. This is war. There's no use in trying to make anything better without first making a few sacrifices. I think, when all of you are older, you'll understand that. Or maybe, after all that you've been through, you understand now.

"The point is that, yes, I'll allow you to follow through with your plan. But I am not going to be part of it. If my son or I are questioned, we will deny knowing anything about what you're doing or where you've gone. We won't stop the Grass Nation from searching for you, and I know for a fact that I will be outvoted if a search comes to pass. If you go through with this, we will hunt you down. It's just the nature of the war, no matter how I personally feel about it. It's just the way things are going to have to be."

"And I'm assuming Turtwig isn't coming with you?" Charmander asked.

Torterra smiled, a glint of vile amusement that made Torchic shiver. "No," he said. "My son will be staying right here. Chikorita may go with you if she so chooses. I'd advise her to stay, but after everything that's already happened…well, I can't even imagine why she'd want to stay here."

Chikorita nodded at Torterra, clearly thankful yet still unsure of the situation.

"But know this!" Torterra shouted, making Torchic involuntarily jump. "The minute you step outside the walls of Ivy City, every single one of you save for Chikorita will be regarded as a trespasser in Grass Nation territory. What happens when you are found is not in my control. I can't tell soldiers how to do their jobs, and they will do what they must to eliminate a threat within our Nation. No matter how old and no matter how young."

Torterra's hard glare traced across the table. Charmander stared back with a hard, fiery gaze that nearly blazed on his face. Torchic at once could feel her heart pounding in admiration. There was that fire, that beautiful fire that took hold of everything in touched and alit it in a glorious inferno. There was the determination that never died in his eyes. There was her heart.

"We understand," Charmander replied. His glance shifted to his friends. "Right?"

Everyone began to nod. Piplup still looked skeptical about it, but Torchic guessed that, in some form, they all were. She too nodded, if only to please Torterra. She wasn't ready to be hunted down, but it was good to know he wouldn't be involved with their leaving. It gave them time to adjust the schedule.

"Good," the Grass Nation Senator said. Satisfied, he half-waddled, half-lumbered away from the kitchen table. "We're doing this the same as we did yesterday. Ferrothorn will be here soon. I say you'd all best prepare; he'll be working you even harder than he did yesterday."

With that ironic statement emanated, Torterra lumbered out of the house Chikorita once called home, the prison they were all now in. Torchic couldn't help but feel for her, especially after Torterra's comment about understanding why she wouldn't want to stay. It was still taking her time to process that it had been only two days since Meganium's death, yet it felt to her like an entire lifetime had passed. She had to think in order to get the sound of his voice to play in her head. And maybe that was because she hadn't known him that well. That could very well have been it. But still, it didn't feel right. It felt…well, it felt awful, really.

No one moved from their seats. Charmander's hard gaze (alongside a blaming, angered blaze coming from Piplup's eyes as he stared) had rested on Turtwig, and would not budge from him. Turtwig was still staring down at the table, his breath moving in and out in shaky, audible gasps. He didn't dare move his eyes from the surface of the table, for if he did, then he would have to acknowledge that what he'd done was real.

"Turtwig," Charmander said firmly. "Turtwig. Look at me."

Slowly, nearly creeping, Turtwig's eyes and head faced toward Charmander. As soon as he saw the hard look in the Fire Nation trainee's eyes, though, his own darted back down to the table. Charmander sighed, then (and everyone, including Piplup, watched this in surprise) jumped on top of the table. Given his small stature and the grand size of the table in comparison, it wasn't difficult for him to navigate his way over to Turtwig. Once he reached him, he bent down on one knee, a bit above him, looking down with that hard, intimidating stare. In the heat of the moment, Torchic felt fear course through her. Of course there was no reason to assume Charmander would harm Turtwig in any way, especially given the chance to leave they'd just been handed. Still, that look showed no mercy, and Torchic feared he may do the same.

"Turtwig," Charmander repeated. "Why'd you do it?"

"He told me to," Turtwig explained through gasps of fear. "He told me that if there was anything suspicious, that if anyone said or did anything that might jeopardize the Grass Nation, to tell him. Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean for this to happen. But, hey, at least he agreed! At least you guys aren't going to have to sneak around about it anymore, right?"

Charmander stared at Turtwig, his gaze darkening. So quick Torchic nearly missed it, Charmander's hand shot out and smacked against Turtwig's cheek. The slap resonated with a snap, one that stole Torchic's breath. Everyone else was staring at Charmander as well, like he'd just done something everyone had thought him incapable of doing.

"You didn't fail us," Charmander said. "You failed yourself. All because your father told you what to do, the father you hate. And yet you _listened_. What happened to becoming a medic, huh? Or did you forget already?"

"Look, I'm sorry," Turtwig tried to mutter, but Charmander had already cut his words to pieces.

"Don't apologize to me!" he yelled. "If you really want to be your own Pokémon, then you have to stop taking orders from your father! Do you hear me? Because if you don't, then you were never worth saving in the first place."

Turtwig looked up at Charmander with shocked, hurt eyes. Torchic couldn't help feeling bad, but she couldn't shake off the new distrust of him that had been planted in her brain. It was one thing to say you were going to be someone you wanted to be. It was entirely different to be the person you were expected to be. It could have been a hell of a lot worse, though, and she knew it. He could have brought up the Reapers and the Wardens, could have channeled that into a rage that would know no end because of everything the Reapers had taken away from them. Charmander could have killed him right there, and he'd looked ready to. If anything, Turtwig had gotten off lucky.

Charmander strode across the table and landed beside Torchic. He looked at her, then at everyone else. "Alright," he said. "We might as well wait until Ferrothorn gets here."

Everyone agreed with a nod, but remained silent. The only sound in the room for the next three minutes came from Turtwig as he tried to stifle his tears.


	67. Tepig IX

**Tepig**

Tepig leaned down and lapped up the water from the stream. After having crossed the desert just as the moon was rising on his first day of his trek, he had been meandering through what he assumed to be the Water Nation for two days, trying to locate the capital. He had a suspicion that somehow, if he went there, everything could be explained. He knew it lay in ruins, and he didn't know if he would encounter whoever these "Reapers" were, but he understood the danger. The danger was worth it, though. For his friends, and for finally having a purpose, it was worth it.

That was what he realized he'd been missing for so long; a purpose. Something to strive for. Since the deaths of his parents, he had been nothing but gloomy. Yet now, despite the necessity of survival and the growling in his stomach, he felt truly alive. He was on a quest to do the right thing, to bring his friends back home. He was concerned for the Council Members, of course. The thought of what may have happened to them was something he was unable to shake from the back of his mind. But gradually, he began to think of them less and less. Instead he started thinking of Charmander and Torchic. Of how lost and alone they must have been. Or how they may have been dead.

That thought was a reoccurring one he kept having to shake from his mind. If he kept thinking about the possibility that he would never find them at all, or worse, find them as corpses, then he would end up discouraged and turning back. He wasn't going to run from what he felt was the right thing to do. Not anymore. As much as it pained him to think it, he was glad to have left the Fire Nation behind. This, out in the open, ignorant of National boundaries, doing what he felt was right, _this_ made him feel inspired.

It hadn't been an off switch, though. After having walked for nearly twenty-four hours straight, he had collapsed onto his side out in the open, not caring if he was spotted by a malicious force or not. After sleeping until the sun was high in the sky, he awoke, then promptly burst into tears. He didn't know what set him off, but he was suddenly thinking of Fennekin. He wanted to hold her again, but not as a person. Like a security blanket, he wanted her back in his arms, a tangible object that could tell him everything was going to be alright. But those days had passed on, and he knew it. He wept not only for the past, but for the future. Her last words to him before his departure echoed in his mind:

 _They're dead, and there's nothing you can do about it!_

In all likelihood she was right. There was no possible way for trainees that had been out on their own for nearly two and a half weeks to survive. There had been no reports from any other towns or cities in the Fire Nation claiming to have seen them, no sightings whatsoever. Had they been somewhere, _anywhere_ safe, Furnace would have gotten word almost the moment they were sighted. Yet they didn't. They didn't receive word from anywhere, which meant Charmander and Torchic were in another Nation, unprotected save for the skills they could muster up. Skills that, to be fair, were well-toned. But not good enough to keep them alive if they were surrounded by enemy combatants.

And yet, despite the negative thoughts coursing their way through his brain, he didn't give in. He stood, brushed his tears away with one hoof, and kept walking deeper into Water Nation territory. So what if there was a chance they were dead? It also meant there was a chance they were alive, that he would be able to find them alive. He knew how stupid it sounded, but something told him that, despite the size of the world, fate itself would be able to lead him to where he needed to be.

And, like a beacon in the sunset, as Tepig raised his head, he saw what he was looking for. It was something he'd overheard only once, and it hadn't stuck with him then. But, suddenly, like a jolt of lightning flashing across his brain, an old fact popped to the surface of his consciousness. He remembered a soldier, he couldn't remember who specifically, talking about how the houses in Aquarius always shined, like they were made of sapphires. How the buildings had a beautiful tinge to them when the sun's light reflected off their surface. Tepig stared, his heartbeat quickening.

There, in the refracted beams of sunlight shooting across the sky, was a beautiful blue house. What's more, the roof appeared sloped, like the top floor had collapsed in on itself. Beauty and destruction. Fate itself. Aquarius.

Tepig broke into a run, hopping over the little stream, his thirst forgotten. He jogged his way through the brush, the caution he had been using throughout his journey cast to the wind, forgotten in the tumult of joy he felt. Finally, finally, a place that may have been able to offer him some answers! He broke through bushes and branches, one of them jutting a thorn that scraped his left cheek. He felt a small trickle of blood run down his face, but didn't care. He was finally here. Finally in a place that meant something to him.

When he broke into the city, his smile faltered.

He'd already known the city was in ruins, but somehow seeing it fortified the impression. A description could do no justice to the hellish landscape he had stumbled into. It looked as if every house had been toppled or damaged in one way or another. The house he'd first spotted with the sloping roof had had its door ripped from its hinges. The inside, from what he could glimpse from his vantage point, was trashed. The rest of the city looked just as bad. Glass, debris, and bloodstains littered the streets. Lampposts had been knocked over, burn marks on some houses that had been damaged by candle flames from the posts lighting them up. Despite evidence of a fire, however, the city hadn't burned. Furthermore, there were no bodies anywhere in the streets, despite the copious amount of blood.

Someone had made the mess, then cleaned up what they could. Perhaps, Tepig reasoned, whatever Special Operations subgroup Garchomp was in charge of. But that didn't make sense to him. Why leave all of this destruction, yet keep the flames from burning the city to the ground? Wouldn't it make more sense to leave bodies in the streets and the smoldering ashes of the city as a way to assert dominance over the Water Nation? It sounded morbid, sure, but based on how ruined the city was, it wasn't like Garchomp or Feraliagtr or whoever had done this was trying to hide it. It didn't make sense to only half-ass a cleanup. And of only bodies and flames as well.

Unless…

Tepig's eyes widened. It was a dumb possibility, but it didn't make it any less impossible. He looked around, searching for movement. Nothing, but that didn't mean Pokémon weren't still in this city. But if they were, it only raised even more questions.

Tepig shook his head. Enough of this, he decided. His focus had to be on finding clues that could lead him to Charmander and Torchic. Reluctant, and with a newfound, stronger caution about him, Tepig stepped into the ruins of Aquarius.

As he glanced around at the dilapidated, once-thriving city, he felt a pang of pity for the citizens. They were an enemy Nation, a Nation responsible for countless Fire Nation deaths and, arguably, the Ground Nation's attack on Furnace. Hell, it was the head of their Council that killed his parents in the first place. Still, though, this was so much different than a battlefield. These buildings, collapsed, destroyed, ruined beyond repair, had been homes. Some of the blood on the ground may have been from soldiers, but Tepig would wager most of it came from ordinary citizens, living their lives day-to-day, trying to survive in this destructive world. This wasn't a fate anyone deserved. Even the soldiers he felt a tugging his heart for.

Because this was bigger than the war he'd known. Betrayal, mistrust, alliances. Yes, it was _much_ bigger than he previously thought.

He lightly searched a few houses, coming up with nothing. There had been no bodies, however the amount of blood in homes that looked to be the former abodes of normal, law-abiding citizens merely confirmed what he'd previously assumed. He could see that nothing appeared obviously stolen, as if the damage had been done less as a way to cover something up and more for the sheer sake of it. Glass and ceramic plates were smashed across the floors. Windows had been busted open, some of the remaining glass shards tainted with trace amounts of blood. Some doors had also been ripped from their hinges, lying next to the houses they belonged to or gone altogether.

Tepig didn't come across the one remaining body in the city until he found the Dome. Something about its appearance, some kind of radiating importance, gave it the definition of a proper noun in his mind. The Dome was enormous, perhaps a quarter of a mile in diameter. But that didn't entirely matter, given that many of the walls were shredded, the overhead dome itself only hanging by a couple of still-sturdy connections. The shadow it cast made it nearly impossible for him to see it. Over the course of a couple minutes, Tepig managed to make his way to the other side, all the while scanning the darkness with his eyes to see if he could find anything of note.

When he finally got to the other end, he noticed a makeshift stage had been erected on this side. The wall behind it had been shredded, allowing Tepig to step onto the stage and survey the result of some kind of unknown chaos. There were chairs everywhere, lined up like a makeshift auditorium. But there was also the smell of rotting food, which hit his nose like a tank. His eyes watered and he gagged, hoping the smell wouldn't make him vomit. Thankfully, he was able to keep what little he'd eaten inside of him. The food smell confirmed for him what he never would have suspected; this was a dining hall.

Whatever had gone on here, it had been some kind of celebration. He didn't know what the hell the Water Nation had to celebrate, given that they'd just been betrayed by the Ground Nation around the same time Aquarius had been destroyed. Still, given the sheer magnitude of the building, destroyed chairs, and blood spatter, Tepig guessed there had been quite the turnout. Still, he couldn't place what specifically had happened, and given that didn't feel like he had to guess. Whatever it was, Feraligatr and Kabutops had allegedly used it to their advantage and slaughtered everyone. And due to the state of the city, it was clear they were not working alone. They were just the ringleaders of an operation. A _very_ carefully-plotted operation.

The thought of a Senator or Great Warrior betraying the Fire Nation flashed through Tepig's mind. He shook his head. He would worry about his suspicions of that later. For now, the main priority was the find Charmander and Torchic. Or at least a trace of them.

Wait.

Something blue, hidden within the discord.

Tepig crouched down, peering over the side of the stage. He squinted into the darkness below him, the faint realization that the sun would be gone soon seeping into the back of his mind. As his eyes slowly accustomed to the darkness, he could see a dark blue figure, their eyes wide with shock and horror, staring up at him. A red pearl glowed in the center of their forehead, but Tepig didn't know if this was a Great Warrior or a regular soldier. The body's abdomen was a mash of red and pink. Tepig shuddered, in his mind's eye seeing Sir Kabutops' claws sinking into his poor victim's body. The part that made him nearly vomit again was the trail of blood leading from an unknown spot in the dark to where the body now lay below the stage. Beyond, near the trail, Tepig thought he glimpsed something long and pink.

That was enough searching for now. Not only was he discomforted, but the sun had nearly sunk over the horizon. The best thing for him to do was the go back, find an abandoned, fairly intact house to sleep and scavenge for food in, and get some rest. He felt a morbid guilt that he may be sleeping in the bed of a dead Pokémon tonight, but he cast the thought aside. This was a terrible place, a place he hoped never to return to, but for tonight it was the best place he had.

As the sun began to sink, he couldn't help but feel paranoia settle in. This place, it could easily still have a group living here. Whether that be survivors of the attack or the perpetrators watching to ensure they properly cleaned up their mess, neither party would be thrilled to find a rogue member of the Fire Nation snooping around. As the stars blinked into existence across the night sky, this fear only stabilized. Tepig wandered around, looking back through the houses he was able to search, and found one with a door still intact. He jumped up and hit the knob with his hoof. It didn't budge. He tried again, to no success. Most likely, it was locked.

Terror pulsed in him at the thought that whoever had done this was still prowling around. He knew there was no real reason to believe the city was anything other than uninhabited, but it was the ghostly quality that amplified his fear. The body, the blood, the brokenness; it was nearly too much to take in all at once.

He settled on the house beside the one he'd first spotted. This one didn't have a door, and all of the windows on the first floor save for one had been smashed in. But it would have to do. So long as there wasn't a resident already here or glass all over the bed, Tepig decided this would be his residence for the night.

Cautiously, he crept through the house, ensuring that it was empty. The first time the floor creaked beneath him he'd nearly had a heart attack. Had it been someone else in there, someone with malicious intent, he had no idea whether he would have fought them off or not. Maybe all that time in the hospital had been him soft for the battlefield. Nevertheless, he searched the house and, finding nothing (alongside a bed that was only partially tattered and a few splashes of blood on the walls and kitchen table), resolved to sleep there that night.

He scoured the cabinets, looking for any food that may still have been good. Luck was on his side in this regard, for the first and only cabinet he opened contained an unopened bag of potato crisps about half his size. Tepig, overjoyed at the prospect of food that wasn't from a hospital or a berry bush, took the bag in his mouth. He turned and nearly set the bag on the table, but stopped when he saw the bloodstains. He stared at the remnants of carnage for a moment, blank, knowing only that eating those potato crisps on a table covered in death was disrespectful to the dead. It wasn't even the Water Nation to him anymore, not after everything he'd seen. No Nation deserved this. Even if this one had killed his parents, this was not the punishment it deserved. He took the crisps up to the bedroom, placed them on the floor, curled up, and began munching on them.

As he did so, he thought back to the Dome, to the body that had been sprawled beneath the makeshift stage. If something like this had happened in the Water Nation, what was preventing it from happening in any other Nation? In his _own_ Nation? He floated back to that fleeting thought, and felt its weight heavy on him. If something like that had even the _chance_ of happening in his own Nation, shouldn't he warn them? Wasn't it his responsibility as a Great Warrior in training to do what was in the best interest of the Nation?

Yes, Moltres had warned them, Tepig had overheard that before Charizard and Blaziken disappeared. But there hadn't been a single ounce of scrutiny when it came to the revelation that the Ground Nation was most likely involved in the attack. Tepig didn't know what to make of that, but his suspicions were high. He knew he could trust Moltres, but Typhlosion…

Tepig shook his head. This was just his paranoia getting to him. Still, though, wouldn't it make sense to have a corroborating report? One that could back up everything Moltres was saying? Tepig didn't know if he wanted to get involved, especially when his friends were still out there, doing Arceus knew what or having Arceus knew what done to them. He was feeling an inner conflict he knew he shouldn't have been feeling. What was more important to him; his Nation, or his friends?

That was something he could decide in the morning. Taking the last crisp from the bag (and feeling grateful no one had seen him eat the entire thing), Tepig chewed it, swallowed, burped, then jumped onto the bed. The cushiony surface he was greeted with made him realize just how awful and rock-hard the hospital beds had been. Perhaps when he got back to the Fire Nation, he could mention something jokingly to Flareon. Even a little joke might be able to push him to make things more comfortable. But for now, he was content where he was. His eyelids closed, and the darkness of sleep drifted over him.

Tomorrow was a new day. A day where he would decide what to do. But no matter what, he would find Charmander and Torchic. He would bring them home.

…

Mumbling voices.

Tepig jolted up in the bed. He looked around. The room was still dark, the stars still dotting the night sky. Yet voices were still echoing in the ghost city. Tepig slowly got out of bed, fearing the voices may have been emanated from downstairs. He peeked through the window first, though, nearly thankful that he did. The house beside his, two houses down from the one he'd first spotted before entering the city, was yellow with light. Two figures stood outside of it, staring up at the night sky. Even from his vantage point, Tepig could recognize their shape from the last time he'd seen them in battle.

Senator Feraligatr and Sir Kabutops.

His heart racing, Tepig ducked beneath the window, scrunching his body up, fearful. They were in the city, perhaps _had_ been in it just as long as him. For all he knew them or some of their lackeys had been following him, watching him from a distance. And now here they were, out in the open, prepared to strike as soon as they could. Tepig attempted to reclaim control, but in his confusion and panic didn't entirely know what to think. He could be in grave danger right now and only have the inkling of an idea of just how much he was in. His mind was whirling from the exhaustion, from the debate he'd been having with himself what felt like just a moment before. From all of this, every moment that had been and was, he felt control slipping.

His body shaking, this new sensation of pure panic rushing through him, he took in a shaky breath and sighed it out. It was his brain. His brain was the problem here. It wasn't listening to reason, and for that it had needed a sharp rebuke. Now it slowly ebbed back, back from the abyss it had formed upon realizing all of it, everything that dead Gabite had said, everything about Reapers, everything about a conspiracy and possibly even a war that was happening just below the surface, all of it was true. It was terrifying to realize, to grasp it with a train of thought that had to be reasonable, because that's what it was, but it was there. Tepig had to accept it and deal with it, like it or not. Shaky inhale, calmer exhale. All until he could think again.

The likelihood that he'd been spotted was slim, but it was still a possibility. He peaked over the window again and saw the two of them were staring out into the starry night, as if they were admiring the twinkling lights dotting the sky. Clearly they hadn't noticed him, otherwise they would have been searching. Either that or they would have sent their henchmen, whoever they were. But in the dead silence of night, Tepig knew he would have been able to hear them by now if they were hunting for him. It was the general nature of it all that really struck him. The calm and quiet of their stare into the night sky, the way Feraligatr's mouth moved and eyes drooped, unguarded. It was a leisurely conversation they were having, not a care in the world. Perhaps the city had been empty for so long, they'd just gotten used to it.

Tepig slid away from the window and moved towards the door to the bedroom. He carefully made his way down the stairs. Turning in each direction, he attempted to find a way out, one that he could sneak through quietly. The first option he was searching for was a back door, something he could quickly unlock and unlatch, get himself out from the house and make a break for the trees surrounding the territory. But no such door existed. His only option, then, would be a window.

He turned, facing the side of the house farthest from the former members of the Water Nation. There, in what appeared to be a destitute dining room, was a window. A slight amount of light shone from it, marking it as a beacon of hope. Tepig prayed that it truly would be that as he crept over the rubble and debris of a broken table and three dilapidated chairs. The table itself was flat, and so was easy to cross. The legs had been snapped off, wood splinters scattered around the surface of the table the only remnants of them left. Tepig walked across the table, then hauled himself over the unidentifiable mess of a chair. As if fate itself had decreed his escape, he saw that just below the window was a wobbly, half-scarred chair. He jumped onto it, then hopped up in search of a latch to unlock his escape route.

Success. He saw it, there, a silver little switch he just needed to flick in order to get where he wanted to go. At least, that's what it would have been like, had his feet not landed too hard on the remnants of the chair. The snap vibrated through the house. The surface below him, his only way of proper escape, suddenly fell in from underneath him. Tepig stumbled and fell, feeling a hot stinging on his left flank that made him want to scream. But he held his breath, not daring to look back. If he did, he would see his injury, and if it was bad enough…well, he didn't know what his reaction would be. He guessed it depended on the depth of it.

Still, undeterred and desperate, Tepig jumped up once again. As he did so, he hit his hoof against the latch. It unlocked with a tinier snap, one that no one that wasn't inside the house would have been able to discern. His feet fell on the chair again. This time the snap was much cleaner, more audible. The only lucky part about this one was that it didn't injure him this time. Cursing himself for being portly enough to emit those sounds (the fat of which he was certain came from all that damned hospital food), Tepig jumped once again, this time sliding the window open with his front hooves. Finally, freedom. He jumped once and…

There was a screen on the window.

Tepig's body cracked against the chair just as the front door of the house opened. He heard silent footsteps on the hardwood floor, followed by the creaking closing of a door behind the figure. There was a lithe sort of sound to it, a clacking to each footstep as it hit the floor, like claws. It was easy for Tepig to tell which of the figures was now hunting for him.

His brain was in full panic mode, but this time there was a silver lining of intelligence to it. Thought traversed through Tepig's head, desperation, yes, but also the need to escape in a way that wouldn't get him caught, wouldn't have his identity known to these Reapers. Because that was what they were to him now, yes, what they had to be. Reapers, coming to harvest…what?

"Reaper" was an olden term for crop-harvester.

Tepig didn't have time to finish the thought. He had to keep moving.

He knew there was no way he wasn't going to be able to get out of this mess of a house without making noise. But he also knew the only viable option he had now was the closed front door, one that Feraligatr would surely be standing outside of. Which meant all he had was the window. The window with the metal screen on it.

Wait.

Metal.

Tepig grinned.

It was quick, but it was effective. Tepig let out the fire he'd been storing in his belly for a moment like this. It erupted from his mouth in a flamethrower, hot enough right away to begin melting the thin steel beams that imprisoned him. At least, that's what he'd hoped for. Instead, the metal only grew hot. The fire hadn't done shit.

"You!" An accusing voice, the one Tepig didn't want to confront. Before the clacking footsteps on the hardwood floor could begin again, Tepig made one last desperate attempt to escape. He knew it would fail, just as everything else had. But still, something alighted in his stomach, a feeling he hadn't felt for a long time up until now. One that caused him to pour every ounce of strength he had into that fatal leap, the one that wouldn't break him through the screen, the one that wouldn't save him from Kabutops' slashing arms, the one that wouldn't work, because Kabutops would slice him in half even while he was in midair.

He wanted to live.

Five seconds later, he was in the ruins of Aquarius, running. He'd been right; Feraligatr had been standing at the door. When he saw Tepig burst out from the side of the house, he stood dumbfounded for a moment. Whether it was because of who Tepig was or because there was no traditional exit from where he'd come from didn't matter. What mattered was that Feraligatr had been ill prepared, and so the water jet that burst from his mouth missed by an embarrassing longshot. Tepig couldn't help but grin as he galloped past the former Water Nation Senator, galloped right to the doorway of the house they'd been at, just thirty feet away.

Tepig hadn't meant to stop there. But when he locked eyes with the Pokémon chained to the wall by their wrists, he couldn't help coming to a dead halt.

Charizard's head was drooped down, his eyes closed. His chest still moved up and down, signifying he was alive. But his wings, which were spread out about him like he was rearing to take off, were torn to tatters. Bloody holes in them, some leaking scarlet, others yellow and scabbed, told Tepig that he would never fly again. The small, wilting flame on his tail also told him that, if he wasn't freed soon, he may never see his son again.

Blaziken was the one who was staring at him, an intense fire in his dark blue eyes. His wrists were bloodied by his attempts to release himself from his chains. But whatever metal the Reapers had used, it was made of a material flames couldn't melt. The struggling would only make it worse. Tepig also noticed with horror the cased-up leg. Blaziken's right leg had been put into a makeshift cast, and jutted awkwardly and uncomfortably from his body. His eyes, though, that was something. They were burning with hatred, even upon seeing Tepig. Scared, Tepig realized the Senator's eyes were seeing _through_ him, as though at an unseen enemy behind him.

But it was the third figure, the other slumped-over one to the right of Blaziken, which held Tepig's attention the longest.

Senator Empoleon's head drooped in the same way Charizard's did. His flippers were spread out, cuts and slashes across them. He looked the most beaten out of all of them. A large, pink scar had been traced down his chest, an injury Tepig could only assume he'd received from his torturers. His cheeks were torn, as was his body. Hell, as Tepig looked, he could see most of him was torn. He was like a fleshy ragdoll, hanging there, suffering the pain of a thousand suns in this little house where his kingdom, where his Aquarius, had once thrived.

Tepig thought of his parents and smiled.

That thought, however, didn't last long. He could hear the clacking on the street behind him. He looked back and saw the fury in Kabutops' eyes as he quickly approached him. Tepig felt a sudden surge of invincibility emanate through his bones. In that moment, he felt more alive than he'd ever felt in his entire life. He felt as though he could take on a hundred armies, only so he could get back to the Fire Nation. His decision had been made for him. He loved his friends. He loved Charmander and he loved Torchic. But if he went off to look for them now, after this discovery, he could be risking the lives of hundreds of thousands. Maybe millions.

He would come back, but not today.

Just as Kabutops leapt into the air, flashing his arms out, ready to slice, Tepig blew a plume of fire into him. Kabutops, surprised, toppled over in the flames and came crashing to the ground. Tepig knew it wouldn't stop him forever, and so skirted around him as quickly as he could, his mind racing as fast as his feet. Nothing could stop him.

Except fate had a funny way of working things out.

A sea of Gabite and Balstoise were headed his way. Tepig, skirting, avoided them, and began to run as they chased after him. He had no idea from where they'd poured from, or if they'd been stationed there the whole time and he just hadn't been paying enough attention to notice them. Whatever the case was, it wasn't going to be his turn to die tonight. The strength of being able to tackle a hundred armies vanished when one of them showed up.

Tepig ran. He knew he wasn't running in the direction of the Fire Nation. He knew he was being driven deeper into Water Nation territory. But there was nothing else he could do. The destructive forces within Aquarius had caught him. He was now a target, roped into whatever underground war or sick conspiracy was going on behind the scenes of everything. He was now part of it. Maybe even a key player.

What had begun as his mission to find his friends was now something much bigger than he'd imagined. And that thought made him want to turn around and go home. But he couldn't. Not with the armies of an unofficial Nation on his back. Not when every rustling bush could be an enemy. Not when he had to pass near Aquarius again, otherwise he would most certainly get lost and die of starvation.

Not when. Not yet.

Tepig stopped running as the sun's rays began to pierce the sky. He didn't know if he was in the Water Nation or not. All he knew was that he was exhausted, and that sleep was the only thing he wanted. He curled up beneath a tree, planning to rest his eyes for only a few minutes. He didn't want to be caught. That was the last thing he wanted.

He was not caught, but he did not sleep for five minutes. When he woke up again, the sun was sinking over the horizon. Paranoid, he glanced around him. He hadn't been killed. That much was a good sign.

Picking himself up, Tepig trekked away from the Fire Nation and away from Aquarius, deeper into uncharted territory. He had to find somewhere, anywhere that would listen to him. Because, he realized, it wasn't just about one Nation anymore. It was about _all of them_. It was even bigger than renegades in the Water Nation. Something bigger was going on.

He really didn't want to find out what it was. But something told him that, in time, he would.


	68. Garchomp I

**Garchomp**

They would never understand that he was trying to create something beautiful, but that was okay. They wouldn't be around long enough to watch it happen.

Garchomp was escorted into the Capitol Building by two Gabite, their loyalty still towards the master whom they identified with the most. Garchomp looked around, gazing up at the high ceiling and luxurious, smooth wood that made everything in the Council Chambers shine with a hideous glamour. Garchomp nearly scowled, but he held his ground as the Senators whom he had once regarded as friends filed into the room. Nidoking and Nidoqueen, their contrasting and bulbous purple and blue bodies waddling in at the same time. They were competent, that much was true, but try as he might have Garchomp was unable to sway them to doing something grand for the people.

Now someone that would have made a good lapdog was Flygon, but the moment talk of killing their own was brought about he had been the first to slap it down. Nidoking and Nidoqueen hadn't been too keen on the subject matter either, but they had at least waited to hear Garchomp out before decided it was better to have even their sinful subjects alive. That was all it was ever about for them, making sure everyone had a fair chance. But they had already chosen their side, the side that perverted the resources of a once-beautiful world, all in the name of a God that had never shown his face to them.

But Garchomp had seen His face. It had been beautiful.

He saw it in every glowing field this world still had left to offer. He saw it in the sunset, when the orange of the setting sun glazed the horizon with a layer of beauty so glorious, so powerful, that when he was a teenager he would weep at such a sight. Now he didn't have a single tear left. They had taken that from him too, along with everything else that had made the world beautiful. It was bad enough that nobody knew how the war on the surface started. It was even worse that no one had taken it into their hands to end it.

No one except the Reapers. They were the only ones, from time immemorial, who understood where the world could go if one simply cast aside the modern qualities of morality and became one with the world around them. If they simply understood that He was the only thing that could bring this world back from the brink of destruction. The only form that could finally, _finally_ make this world a better place. Not Arceus. Not even Darkrai. Just Him.

But now it was all being threatened, or so his enemies believed. It wasn't easy being the leader of a movement that the rest of the world was hell-bent on destroying. To have the qualities to take the mantle of leader of the Reapers, one had to have the cunning and the skill to take the role and use it to their advantage. Garchomp could admit to himself that there were plenty of other noteworthy candidates that could take up his mantle if something were to happen to him, some he would even argue that had better leadership qualities than he did. Still, he had been the one to take the role, and thus it was his. So he had to defend it by any means possible.

The Council looked at him like a stranger. Garchomp looked at them, sitting in their comfortable chairs crafted by a society they saw as made up of nothing but Pokémon not worth a damn. They were waiting for him to explain what he'd done, but he simply said nothing. He would rather them pull it out like teeth. The longer they kept going, the more time his soldiers had to prepare.

After a long stretch of silence, Nidoking was the first to speak. "Senator Garchomp," he said. "I hope you know what the hell you're doing, because I sure don't. What is all of this talk I'm hearing and why am I not hearing it from you? First you make an alliance with the Water Nation behind our backs, and then you send soldiers out to the ruins of Aquarius. Don't think we wouldn't find out just because you didn't consult with us! We have eyes and ears everywhere."

Oh yes, Garchomp knew about the eyes and ears he was soon going to rip right from their sockets.

"Garchomp," Nidoqueen spoke up. "Did you have anything to do with the coup in Aquarius?"

There was no use in hiding it now. If he wasn't honest with them, it wouldn't make the end result of this funny. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I orchestrated the entire thing."

The Council fell silent. It was a bit of an overstatement, but he loved the look of shock on their faces that he couldn't resist telling them as much as he could without giving away too much. If they died knowing too much they would feel satisfaction. The last thing he wanted was his enemies to feel satisfied before they perished.

"I promised Senator Feraligatr full control of the Water Nation if he destroyed Aquarius. He ended up getting Sir Kabutops to help him, promising him half of the Nation once they took control. But whether Feraligatr follows through on that promise isn't up to me. We were banking on all of the Senators and Great Warriors being in the capital the night of the attack. But he ended up calling me and informing me of some… _prospects_. Of course, said prospects ended up being fruitless, which is a shame considering how much we risked to get them, only for all three of them to slip through our grasp. Last I heard Rhyperior had another one, although I haven't heard from him in a while. Come to think of it, I haven't been in contact with anyone in the Rock Nation for quite a while. Huh."

Despite this comment being an attempt to flaunt just how much his fellow Senators didn't know, Garchomp was legitimately concerned that he hadn't heard anything from Rhyperior since he'd been informed that Turtwig was in their custody. Whether or not something went wrong there, however, was not of immediate concern.

What was, however, was the shock plastered on the Council's face. Nidoking broke the five second silence with a question: "Garchomp, what in Arceus' name are you doing?"

Garchomp smiled. "I'm not doing anything in Arceus' name," he said. "But I guess you're close."

Nidoqueen gasped. "Garchomp! You know that Darkrai worship has been forbidden in the Ground Nation for generations."

"Well of course!" he replied mockingly. "I would _never_ stoop so low as the break the laws set up by the glorious Council Members that came before us!"

"Garchomp, do not mock this Council!" Nidoking shouted. "You've caused the deaths of thousands, hundreds of which were our own!"

"Oh, and you haven't?"

The Council stared at him in silence.

Garchomp paced back and forth across the room as he explained, the fire in his chest bursting forth in the form of rage from his mouth. "I go and do something that weakens a neighboring Nation. I've even promised to put a Pokémon in charge that I know for a fact will not betray me and attack us. I have given us an opportunity to be safe on one side of our border. Yes, yes, it's cost the lives of many Ground Nation soldiers and Water Nation civilians. I understand why you're so upset; the 'don't kill civilians' belief every Nation holds has been so ingrained into your heads that someone doing just that, even if it's for the greater good, has you all worked up."

"Don't forget the Fire Nation," Flygon said, finally speaking up. "We know from reports from a couple of your soldiers that you attacked there as well."

"Well what was I supposed to do!?" Garchomp shouted, letting anger-fueled honesty emit from his lungs. "If you have a chance to weaken your enemy, you do it! All of you just keep holding back, holding on to these moralities that don't have a single thing to do with the way the world is now. We kill or be killed; that's the way it always has been! But you all don't see it that way. You don't see it that way because you lack purpose. And sure, Suicune is still alive. She'll probably take control of the Nation and declare war on someone. The real question is, if it's us, will you be prepared?"

"You're not making any sense!" Nidoking said. "First you talk of attacking the Fire Nation to defeat the enemy, then you jump to Senator Suicune of the Water Nation. Garchomp, we need a real explanation. Stop dancing around the truth and just tell us what the hell it is you've got planned! Otherwise, we'll be forced to excommunicate you from the Council. Arrest you, maybe, if you can't explain to us adequately why you would do something like this!"

"I _am_ explaining! But you're just not understanding it! Everything I've done for the past month has been for this moment, right here, and right now. We have a chance to bring peace to the world! To slaughter anyone in our path, yes, including civilians, is just a necessary evil. Do you know why we had to do that? To instill fear into the hearts of those that lived. We didn't kill everyone in Aquarius, you know. We destroyed the town, nearly burnt it to the ground, but we didn't kill nearly half the population. We let them escape because barely anyone knows the truth about this world. And if we kill everyone, then we risk having a world where no one can be free. We are doing this for the people! Honorable sacrifices have to be made, that is true, but it is still for the good of everyone that those deaths occur!"

"Enough!" Nidoking roared, standing from his seat. Garchomp stared at him in silence. He almost couldn't hold back his smirk, but he managed to refrain from smiling just enough so none of the Council Members took notice. Nidoking continued. "Now I don't know what kind of crusade you think you're on, but this has gone far enough! I'm just now hearing things about secret branches of our army, recruitment training done in an undisclosed location, and now…now you're telling me you had a part to play in this massacre of another Nation's civilians? Garchomp, I think it's very clear that you no longer deserve a place on this Council."

"I concur," Nidoqueen added. "Garchomp, I can understand why you think what you've done has been for the greater good. That perhaps making allies is what we need at the moment. But it isn't something that can be or should be embraced! It's something that's never been done before. And if we did decide we wanted to ally with another Nation, murdering its subjects is not the way to go about it."

Ah, there it was. That word that they always tried to deny their usage of but just couldn't help slip into a conversation. Not allies. Not people. Not comrades. _Subjects_.

"Of course, subjects!" Garchomp shouted. "That's all you think of them as anyway, isn't it? Cannon fodder for your little war! Tell me again, what is it that this war is about anyway? Go on, give me a little history lesson."

"It's the way things are, Garchomp," Flygon answered. "And besides, at least we aren't killing our or anyone else's citizens."

"Oh, just the soldiers, then?" Garchomp sneered. "Of course, _their_ lives aren't as important as everyone else's. It's all about making sure it's only the ones who are given weapons and armor that die, isn't that right? While the rest of us can live out our days all fat and happy, going into battle every once and a while to rouse the morale of soldiers who may never come home to the families! That's what this is all about, isn't it?"

"Garchomp, we are not here to discuss the morality of the war," Nidoking said, his stern gaze piercing Garchomp's own. "We are here to discuss the fact that you are responsible for the deaths of Water Nation civilians. Not just men and women, but children as well! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"They died for a more noble cause than this petty war!"

"So you defend the deaths of those children?" Flygon asked. "Any child that died, either intentionally or unintentionally, you believe that this was part of something positive?"

"Do you think I _wanted_ to have children killed?" Garchomp asked. "Do you think that's something _I_ would want to see happen? Of course not! But, when it comes to those that don't believe, some of them must be sacrificed if we are to do what we have set out to accomplish."

"We?" Nidoking asked "Who is 'we'? And what is it exactly that you're trying to accomplish?"

Garchomp smiled. The shadows were slinking in the back, hungry, poised and ready to change history. "We are the Reapers," Garchomp said, smirking. "We reap to sow."

Garchomp was impressed by the speed of the Gabite that tore a hole through the left side of Nidoking's throat. He was even more impressed by how quickly Nidoking was able to grab the Gabite and squeeze its head until it popped like a balloon. Blood and brain matter spewed across the faces of all four Council Members. The headless body of the Gabite flopped to the ground before Nidoking stumbled to one knee. The Head of the Ground Nation's Council locked eyes with Garchomp. The fire of fight was in them, but Garchomp could tell by the steady stream of blood spewing from Nidoking's neck that he would never again be able to act on his rage. "You did this…" he whispered.

"Kill him!" Nidoqueen screeched, grief from her husband's imminent demise. Garchomp turned and, to his amusement, saw the two Gabite who had escorted him into the building. Garchomp turned away from them, feeling his heart flutter with joy at the sheer terror on Nidoqueen's face. He had killed many Pokémon in his time as a trainee, a Great Warrior, and then as a Senator. But no matter how many times he killed, he could never get over how satisfying it was to look into the eyes of someone who knew they were going to die.

Garchomp launched himself at her, and before Nidoqueen had time to react, he had already jabbed her once, twice, three, four, five, six times, kept jabbing at her neck until he lost count. It was only a few seconds of stabbing, but the speed at which he did it was enough to leave a ragged hole in the center of her throat. She gurgled once, perhaps a plea to be released, perhaps an apology for having questioned Garchomp at all. It didn't matter what it was supposed to mean, though; the life faded from her eyes, and she went limp.

Garchomp turned as soon as he heard the window shatter. He looked over at his soldiers, then at the spot where Flygon had been. _Dammit!_ He'd heard too much for him to be left alive. Anyone he talked to would have to be subject to rigorous questioning, killed even. At least they would have more bodies, but if he could get away with killing as few of his Nation's people as possible, he would do it.

"You two!" Garchomp nodded to the Gabite that had led him into the capitol building for the trial that had gone so well. "Find Flygon and his son, Trapinch! The son looks kind of like an orange ball with a face. The minute you find either of them, kill them. I don't care for leverage against Flygon, they both have to die anyway."

Then he turned to the four Gabite that had been lurking in the shadows, the ones who had been on standby in case anything had gone wrong during the mission. "You two," Garchomp nodded to the ones on his right. "Go find the Nido twins. Just like with the other two, you find them, you kill them."

"No!"

The croak sounded from the ground. Garchomp looked down to see Nidoking, his heavy body rocking back and forth as he tried to stand, the blood spurting from his neck not letting up. Without looking at his soldiers, Garchomp nodded. They did the same and ran off, on their hunt for the son and daughter of two of the most revered figures in the Ground Nation.

Garchomp kicked Nidoking down, where he lay. He tried to reach out weakly with his powerful hands. Garchomp knew that, at his full strength, Nidoking could have easily crushed him. Here, though, he had the upper hand, even if he didn't have any. He put his foot on Nidoking's face, feeling his talons dig into the skin on his cheeks. The Senator looked up at him, wordless, no pain emitting from his face, just anger. And that was okay. Garchomp has accomplished what he'd set out to do. He didn't need the added bonus of watching his enemy writhe in pain. It would have been fun, sure, but it wasn't the goal. There were much bigger things at stake than whether or not those he killed felt pain as they died.

"I'm truly sorry I had to do this," Garchomp said. "I didn't want this place to get so bloody. I have to admit, the way you crushed that Gabite's head was impressive. If only you'd listened. You could have been a wonderful ally."

Garchomp aimed the claws on his toes, then pressed down on Nidoking's eyes. From this the Senator could not escape the pain. He screamed, bloodcurdling, as Garchomp's claws pressed deeper and deeper into his eye sockets. Garchomp released him after a few seconds. Nidoking lay writhing on the ground, now, his hands on his eyes.

Garchomp walked past the remaining two Gabite. "I'm going to get my son," he whispered. "Take care of these two. Load them in the nearest transport truck you can find and bring them to Tenebris. Umbreon will take care of them from there."

The Gabite nodded simultaneously. They walked forward to complete their task, but before Garchomp could leave, one of them turned around. "Senator Garchomp," she said. "Thank you for everything you've been willing to do just to bring Him back. I appreciate it. My family appreciates it. Knowing that life will finally get better, especially after my father died…it just feels too good to be true. Thank you."

Garchomp turned to the young Gabite and smiled. "Don't thank me," he said. "You're part of this now. Thank yourself for bringing about something so beautiful."

The Gabite blushed a bit, then smiled and nodded. Garchomp turned away just as she slashed her claw across Nidoking's neck, blood spraying across her face as the last of the Senator's life force rushed out.


End file.
